e trees
In some melodious plot
Of bee green, and shadows numberless,
Si of summer in full-throated ease.
O, for a draught of vihat hath been
Coold a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the try green,
Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippoe,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest di?m
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite fet
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each roan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty ot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pi them beyond to-morrow.
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes aards
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is ohrone,
Clusterd around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
I ot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft inse hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets coverd up in leaves;
And mid-Mays eldest child,
The ing musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on s
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