| John Keats (1795–1821). The Poetical Works of John Keats. 1884. |
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| 15. To * * * * * * |
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| HAD I a man’s fair form, then might my sighs | |
| Be echoed swiftly through that ivory shell | |
| Thine ear, and find thy gentle heart; so well | |
| Would passion arm me for the enterprize: | |
| But ah! I am no knight whose foeman dies; | 5 |
| No cuirass glistens on my bosom’s swell; | |
| I am no happy shepherd of the dell | |
| Whose lips have trembled with a maiden’s eyes. | |
| Yet must I doat upon thee,—call thee sweet, | |
| Sweeter by far than Hybla’s honied roses | 10 |
| When steep’d in dew rich to intoxication. | |
| Ah! I will taste that dew, for me ’tis meet, | |
| And when the moon her pallid face discloses, | |
| I’ll gather some by spells, and incantation. | |
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