Sonnet to John Keats
Nov 25, 2021
Thou piper of warm music and slow love,
Gentle sense, cool caress, and thick fragrance:
Spill unseen honey o’er the air above
And, dripping heavy with sweet abundance,
Drown my senses deep in soft luxury,
And sink me into sleep, into a dream.
Such lasting joys are a thing of beauty
Which Time can never jade; and so their gleam,
The light to wandering paths of high pleasure,
Can steer the voyage for new-found delight.
But once discovered: lost is all leisure,
As the noon-high sun must fall back for night.
You shall survive in the dark sea of Time,
For eternity lives in your greatest rhyme.
