Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/178

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And from her chamber-window he would catch
 * Her beauty farther than the falcon spies;

And constant as her vespers would he watch,
 * Because her face was turn'd to the same skies;

And with sick longing all the night outwear, To hear her morning step upon the stair.

A whole long month of May in this sad plight
 * Made their cheeks paler by the break of June:

"To-morrow will I bow to my delight,
 * To-morrow will I ask my lady's boon."—

"O may I never see another night,
 * Lorenzo, if thy lips breath not love's tune."—

So spake they to their pillows; but, alas, Honeyless days and days did he let pass;

Until sweet Isabella's untouch'd cheek
 * Fell sick within the rose's just domain.

Fell thin asas a [sic] young mother's, who doth seek
 * By every lull to cool her infant's pain:

"How ill she is!" said he, "I may not speak.
 * And yet I will, and tell my love all plain:

If looks speak love-laws, I will drink her tears, And at the least 'twill startle off her cares."

So said he one fair morning, and all day
 * His heart beat awfully against his side;

And to his heart he inwardly did pray
 * For power to speak; but still the ruddy tide