A
Thing of Beauty By John Keats (Source TN Textbook)
A
thing of beauty is a joy forever
Its
loveliness increases, it will never
Pass
into nothingness; but will keep
A
bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full
of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing
Therefore,
on every morrow, are we wreathing
A
flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Some
shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old, and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in: and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
‘Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk – rose blooms;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink
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