NO, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist |
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Wolfs-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine; | ||
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss'd | ||
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine; | ||
Make not your rosary of yew-berries, | 5 | |
Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be | ||
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl | ||
A partner in your sorrow's mysteries; | ||
For shade to shade will come too drowsily, | ||
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul. | 10 | |
But when the melancholy fit shall fall |
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Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud, | ||
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all, | ||
And hides the green hill in an April shroud; | ||
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose, | 15 | |
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave, | ||
Or on the wealth of globed peonies; | ||
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows, | ||
Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave, | ||
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes. | 20 | |
She dwells with Beauty—Beauty that must die; |
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And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips | ||
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh, | ||
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips: | ||
Ay, in the very temple of Delight | 25 | |
Veil’d Melancholy has her sovran shrine, | ||
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue | ||
Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine; | ||
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might, | ||
And be among her cloudy trophies hung. | 30 |
John Keats 1785–1821 Keats wrote this poem, as well as the other four odes, in the spring and autumn of 1819-- when he was 23 years old and 2 years before his death. He started out as an apothecary (藥劑師), but then decided to to a poet. Not including his juvenile work, his writing career spanned only four years. (Stillinger 1) Notes:
Stillinger, Jack, ed. Twentieth Century Interpretations of Keats's Odes. NY: Prentice Hall, 1968.
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