Of late two dainties were before me plac'd
Sweet, holy, pure, sacred and innocent,
From the ninth sphere to me benignly sent
That Gods might know my own particular taste:
First the soft Bag-pipe mourn'd with zealous haste,
The Stranger next with head on bosom bent
Sigh'd; rueful again the piteous Bag-pipe went,
Again the Stranger sighings fresh did waste.
O Bag-pipe thou didst steal my heart away
O Stranger thou didst re-assert thy sway
Again thou Stranger gav'st me fresh alarm
Alas! I could not choose. Ah! my poor heart
Mum chance art thou with both oblig'd to part.
On Hearing The Bag-pipe And Seeing "the Stranger" Played At Inverary
John Keats
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Poem topics: away, poor, head, innocent, sweet, chance, pure, sphere, holy, taste, soft, waste, mourn, choose, heart, fresh, stranger, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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