Bright Star

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art-
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors-
No- yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever- or else swoon to death.

by John Keats

Comments (8)

Oh, what a lovely poem Sylvia, it brings back memories. I'll be reading more of your poems------Melvina
A delicious read which to the heart and imagination, you nourish so well a God givened talented freed. God bless-Michael Jeffrey Gale.
.. Great poem, that made me smile! There is definite evidence here of your wonderful sense of humour! ! ! : -) Sylvia, I travel so much and I am always dismayed when I don't see many children playing outside on sunny Saturday mornings, in this Modern Age. Also, in most suburbs, manicured backyards are without clothesline. Ah, the world is changing. In some cases, too radically! Exellent poem that stirred the emotions! Deanna xx ..
Very nice Sylvia. I love a poem that gives life to something we see everyday yet never really notice. Sincerely, Mary
this fun poem reminds me of my own clothesline poem. lovey.
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