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To Emma

Other Love Poems of John Keats→

1
O come, dearest Emma! the rose is full blown,
And the riches of Flora are lavishly strown;
The air is all softness, and chrystal the streams,
And the west is resplendently cloathed in beams.

2
We will hasten, my fair, to the opening glades,
The quaintly carv’d seats, and the freshening shades;
Where the fairies are chaunting their evening hymns,
And in the last sun-beam the sylph lightly swims.

3
And when thou art weary, I’ll find thee a bed,
Of mosses, and flowers, to pillow thy head;
There, beauteous Emma, I’ll sit at thy feet,
While my story of love I enraptur’d repeat.

4
So fondly I’ll breathe, and so softly I’ll sigh,
Thou wilt think that some amorous zephyr is nigh;
Ah! no–as I breathe it, I press thy fair knee,
And then, thou wilt know that the sigh comes from me.

5
Then why, lovely girl, should we lose all these blisses?
That mortal’s a fool who such happiness misses;
So smile acquiescence, and give me thy hand,
With love-looking eyes, and with voice sweetly bland.

 

1815

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