and just because one cannot have too many sonnets...


WHEN I have fears that I may cease to be   
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,   
Before high piled books, in charact'ry,   
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;   
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,          5
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,   
And feel that I may never live to trace   
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;   
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!   
That I shall never look upon thee more,                10
Never have relish in the faery power   
Of unreflecting love;—then on the shore   
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think,   
Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.



























J. Keats