 | The poems of John Keats (1915) |  |
274
SONG
[You say you love; but with a voice]
You say you love; but with a voice
Chaster than a nun's, who singeth
The soft Vespers to herself
While the chime-bell ringeth—
O love me truly!
Chaster than a nun's, who singeth
The soft Vespers to herself
While the chime-bell ringeth—
O love me truly!
You say you love; but with a smile
Cold as sunrise in September,
As you were Saint Cupid's nun,
And kept his weeks of Ember.
O love me truly!
Cold as sunrise in September,
As you were Saint Cupid's nun,
And kept his weeks of Ember.
O love me truly!
You say you love,—but then your lips
Coral tinted teach no blisses,
More than coral in the sea—
They never pout for kisses—
O love me truly!
Coral tinted teach no blisses,
More than coral in the sea—
They never pout for kisses—
O love me truly!
You say you love; but then your hand
No soft squeeze for squeeze returneth,
It is, like a statue's, dead,
While mine to passion burneth—
O love me truly!
No soft squeeze for squeeze returneth,
It is, like a statue's, dead,
While mine to passion burneth—
O love me truly!
275
O breathe a word or two of fire!
Smile, as if those words should burn me.
Squeeze as lovers should—O kiss
And in thy heart inurn me!
O love me truly!
Smile, as if those words should burn me.
Squeeze as lovers should—O kiss
And in thy heart inurn me!
O love me truly!
| The poems of John Keats (1915) | |