The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone! ...

by John Keats

The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast,
Warm breath, light whisper, tender semitone,
Bright eyes, accomplish'd shape, and lang'rous waist!
Faded the flower and all its budded charms,
Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,
Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,
Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise!
Vanish'd unseasonably at shut of eve,
When the dusk holiday -- or holinght --
Of fragrant-curtain'd love begins to weave
The woof of darkness thick, for hid delight:
But, as I've read love's missal through to-day,
He'll let me sleep, seeing I fast and pray.



The poetical works of John Keats.
Copyright 1871
James Miller, 647 Broadway, New York

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