Sonnet XII: On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour


    Give me a golden pen, and let me lean
    On heaped-up flowers, in regions clear, and far;
    Bring me a tablet whiter than a star,
    Or hand of hymning angel, when 'tis seen
    The silver strings of heavenly harp atween:
    And let there glide by many a pearly car
    Pink robes, and wavy hair, and diamond jar,
    And half-discovered wings, and glances keen.
    The while let music wander round my ears,
    And as it reaches each delicious ending,
    Let me write down a line of glorious tone,
    And full of many wonders of the spheres:
    For what a height my spirit is contending!
    'Tis not content so soon to be alone.


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Return to the John Keats Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; Sonnet XI: On First Looking Into Chapman's Homer

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