‘Endymion’ – John keates
, A thing of beauty is a joy forever:
lts loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower48 quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow49, are we wreathing50
A flowery band51 to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence52, of the inhuman dearth53
Of noble natures54, of the gloomy55 days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall56
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting57 a shady boon58
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills59
That for themselves a cooling covert60 make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake61,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose62 blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms63
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven 's brink.
, A thing of beauty is a joy forever:
lts loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower48 quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow49, are we wreathing50
A flowery band51 to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence52, of the inhuman dearth53
Of noble natures54, of the gloomy55 days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall56
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting57 a shady boon58
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills59
That for themselves a cooling covert60 make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake61,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose62 blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms63
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven 's brink.
