Bride of quietness,
child of silence,
Those unheard are sweeter,
more endeared.
Though canst not grieve,
though thou hast not thy bliss
Play on, fair youth,
thy song cannot fade.
Forever wilt thou love.
Never canst thou leave!
More happy love!
(Forever breathing sorrow)
More happy, happy love!
(Forever panting, burning)
Sacrifice thy peace
Or silent be for evermore
And ne’er return.
Fair attitude trodden
By thy marble man
And by eternity.
In midst of silent woe
Truth doth tease you
But wasted beauty is all you know.
Thanks, Keatsy!
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2 comments:
well you can definately say abuse to this poem...isnt it fun to see what you can make with someones work when you start chopping away?!? i found it so much easier to create something cool when you have something to start with...i like your poem..very good and interesting
I like the new title. I want to use this in the book I am writing! I guess that the expression "happy love" in the poem is in irony -- that is marriage is supposed to be "happy love" but she is trapped... Is that what the author and other readers of the blog think?
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