POEM
"I cry your mercy-pity-love! -aye, love!"
I cry your mercy—pity—love!—aye, love!
Merciful love that tantalizes not,
One-thoughted, never-wandering, guileless love,
Unmasked, and being seen—without a blot!
O! 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, million-pleasured breast,
Yourself—your soul—in pity give me all,
Withhold no atom’s atom or I die
Or living on perhaps, your wretched thrall,
Forget, in the mist of idle misery,
Life’s purposes,—the palate of my mind
Losing its gust, and my ambition blind!
John Keats (1795-1821) was born in London, where he was raised by a merchant after both his . . . MORE »
More Poems by John Keats
"The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!"
"This living hand, now warm and capable"
MORE »
