Sonnet: To A Lady Seen For A Few Moments At Vauxhall

by John Keats

    Time's sea hath been five years at its slow ebb,
    Long hours have to and fro let creep the sand,
    Since I was tangled in thy beauty's web,
    And snared by the ungloving of thine hand.
    And yet I never look on midnight sky,
    But I behold thine eyes' well memory'd light;
    I cannot look upon the rose's dye,
    But to thy cheek my soul doth take its flight.
    I cannot look on any budding flower,
    But my fond ear, in fancy at thy lips
    And hearkening for a love-sound, doth devour
    Its sweets in the wrong sense: Thou dost eclipse
    Every delight with sweet remembering,
    And grief unto my darling joys dost bring.