Sonnet To George Keats: Written In Sickness


    Brother belov'd if health shall smile again,
    Upon this wasted form and fever'd cheek:
    If e'er returning vigour bid these weak
    And languid limbs their gladsome strength regain,
    Well may thy brow the placid glow retain
    Of sweet content and thy pleas'd eye may speak
    The conscious self applause, but should I seek
    To utter what this heart can feel, Ah! vain
    Were the attempt! Yet kindest friends while o'er
    My couch ye bend, and watch with tenderness
    The being whom your cares could e'en restore,
    From the cold grasp of Death, say can you guess
    The feelings which these lips can ne'er express;
    Feelings, deep fix'd in grateful memory's store.


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