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31
KEATS
Lament is made that thou wast all too young,When Death to silence carried thee away,
With brain ungleaned, and many songs unsung,
Giving the promise of so fair a day.
But I have seen more glory in sunrise
Than in the deepening of the azure noon,
Gleaming untimely gold in fairer skies
Than ever lay about an arctic moon.
And I have caught in darkness ere the sun,
A lovelier-liquid note from matin bird
Warbled, than when the full day had begun,
Or in the mid-day splendour I have heard.
Better to leave behind a world to sigh,
Than living fail a world to satisfy.
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