Sapphire Heaven



    Beyond a mortal man impassioned far
    At these voluptuous accents, he arose,
    Ethereal, flushed, and like a throbbing star
    Seen 'mid the sapphire heaven's deep repose
    Into her dream he melted, as the rose
    Blendeth its odor with the violet--
    Solution sweet: meantime the frost-wind blows
    Like Love's alarum pattering the sharp sleet
Against the windowpanes; St. Agnes' moon hath set.

-John Keats (1795-1821),
The Eve of St. Agnes







images © 2000 by Randy Wang
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