My dearest lady;
I cry your mercy,pity,love
Merciful love that tantalizes not;
One thoughted,never wandering,guileless love;
Unmasked and being seen,without a blot.
Let me have thee whole,all,all be mine.
That shape,that fairness,that sweet minor zest of love
Your kiss,those hands,those eyes divine,
That warm,white,lucent...
Yourself,your soul in pity give me all.
Lifes purposes the palate of my mind
Losing it's gust and my ambition blind.
Pillow d'upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel forever it's soft fall and swell,
Awake forever in a sweet unrest,
Still,still to hear her tender taken breath,
And so live ever or else swoon to death.
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
It's loveliness increases;it will never
Pass into nothingness;but still will keep
A bower quiet for us and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams,and health,and quiet breathing.
J.Keats
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