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The post Throw iselo-Werbest wear the lame of poet mider thy brethren of omankindy

And clother in words of flame, Dhoreghita That thall live within the general suunds Deemi sul the framing of adeathless'lay Ther pastind ofadiowdy Curumen-day.

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Bur gather all thy power, And wreak them on the bene that thou dost weaves

. And, in the lonely hours, Alle vilent morning or at wakeful ever While the traim current tingles throughorley veind, Set forth the burning werdd i fliced-chrawed,

No Imoutto array of Wrase, Hotfullep dorught and breléred thirghit-hey

phichtto cold rhymer tagal Mpon the page urtle Languidindueloy, Cáu worke'thétistless Pilseto-livelier espeedy Panfill with dedden teoretha byed that tead,

MA

The deered wouldst thou know
To touch the heart or fere the blood atwilly

Let thiw tejet der flowers
Let they lept suwerurito the poddionale thill,
Véize the qua thight creyetits Perwer be post
And bridzin words, the Yleer enation fadh,

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Then, choreld te verce appear Qtarting and haréh and all reply wrought,

Douch the credevline ordfees Jave in the moment of in padtioned thoughts Pon Junimou back ihoonguel glavand naud The actraw with opture thatwito fire wasipeunedo

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Yet let wo empty quét of passion find an utteranw in thy lay;

Abludi tratthirly the dust , Along the howling Street ad died away; Cour feeliugdofealm power and mighty Nweet, Like Curronts journeying throughsthe wéubleus deep.

mit

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Sieka_thors in living logel
Co-limn the beauty of the lartko na dkg?

Refore this inner gazer
Letrall that beauty in clear vidimulier
Look ow il-urbo escreding love cvad wsite
Die werdd ineflired by Worder and delights

luor

TM

Oftiupedres woulde_thore ting, Colettof battlest, make thyself aprauts

of the great lasnullo cling the tortel wreck with terror-tív hashaupt

Tcule, withotheJaddaulting host, the tarparts light efnd chiked and struggle in the thickest figke

So chall-thew forasu alay
Which haply nay lucrure fromageloago;

And they whorleed Thuletan;
T ot titeling frango upire this poetá pages

What-art is hid thwwrittew spells to find
Chat Away, from») nood to a hood, tho willing /ninalty

Brilliam Cullen ce
Ghid Occa 1895.-

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O bittel boomka , weary lover! To feel ma more Thay fech, inlətinica

Telb qiw fy who cou live good on?

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otu angel face in its sunny wealth of hairs
In Dadiant nipples bathad the graceful'throat
efnd displed shoulders ; nomid the rosy leave
of the sweet moulhe a rmilen seemed wandering every
While in the depths of arare fire that gleamed
Bersall the droopiny lashes, sept a world
of eloquent meaning, passionate yet pare -
dreanny subclued a but oh how beautiful

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The wonders of all-roling Providence,

The juryo that from celestial Merry flow; Chintul beauty periglech excellence,

Ennable and refine the native glow The foch feels - and thenee this busk metoarce

To paint his fuelings with oublin

darce.

John Keats

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