Ah! woe is me! poor silver-wing!
That I must chant thy lady’s dirge,
And death to this fair haunt of spring,
Of melody, and streams of flowery verge,–
Poor silver-wing! ah! woe is me! That I must chant thy lady’s dirge, And death to this fair haunt of spring, Of melody, and streams of flowery verge, —Poor silver-wing! ah! woe is me!
That I must see
These blossoms snow upon thy lady’s pall!
Go, pretty page! and in her ear
Whisper that the hour is near!
Softly tell her not to fear
Such calm favonian burial!
Go, pretty page! and soothly tell, —The blossoms hang by a melting spell, And fall they must, ere a star wink thrice Upon her closed eyes, That now in vain are weeping their last tears, At sweet life leaving, and these arbours green, —Rich dowry from the Spirit of the Spheres, Alas! poor Queen! // John Keats
Happy hump day lovelies, some visual inspiration paired with some poetic genius to tide you until the weekend which, with much luck will see to us all at a much more rapid pace. Then again that will make it another week closer to Christmas and I am still no closer to even remotely starting that never ending list of gift shopping.
How are you guys going? Getting any closer to completing your holiday lists? Want to do mine as well?
|via banished from camelot|