Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/292

276 

I'll have my friar—let me think About my room,—I'll have it in the pink; It should be rich and sombre, and the moon, Just in its mid-life in the midst of June, Should look thro' four large windows and display Clear, but for gold-fish vases in the way, Their glassy diamonding on Turkish floor: The tapers keep aside, an hour and more, To see what else the moon alone can show; While the night-breeze doth softly let us know My terrace is well bower'd with oranges. Upon the floor the dullest spirit sees A guitar-ribbon and a lady's glove Beside a crumple-leaved tale of love; A tambour-frame, with Venus sleeping there, All finished but some ringlets of her hair; A viol, bow-strings torn, cross-wise upon A glorious folio of Anacreon; A skull upon a mat of roses lying, Ink'd purple with a song concerning dying; An hour glass on the turn, amid the trails Of passion-flower;—just in time there sails A cloud across the moon,—the lights bring in! And see what more my phantasy can win. It is a gorgeous room, but somewhat sad; The draperies are so, as tho' they had Been made for Cleopatra's winding-sheet; And opposite the steadfast eye doth meet 