Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/81

53 "O Isabella, I can half perceive That I may speak my grief into thine ear; If thou didst ever any thing believe, Believe how I love thee, believe how near My soul is to its doom: I would not grieve Thy hand by unwelcome pressing, would not fear Thine eyes by gazing; but I cannot live Another night, and not my passion shrive."

"Love! thou art leading me from wintry cold, Lady! thou leadest me to summer clime, And I must taste the blossoms that unfold In its ripe warmth this gracious morning time." So said, his erewhile timid lips grew bold, And poesied with hers in dewy rhyme: Great bliss was with them, and great happiness Grew, like a lusty flower in June's caress.