Keen, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there
Among the bushes half leafless, and dry;
The stars look very cold about the sky,
And I have many miles on foot to fare.
Yet feel I little of the cool bleak air,
Or of the dead leaves rustling drearily,
Or of those silver lamps that burn on high,
Or of the distance from home's pleasant lair:
For I am brimfull of the friendliness
That in a little cottage I have found;
Of fair-hair'd Milton's eloquent distress,
And all his love for gentle Lycid drown'd;
Of lovely Laura in her light green dress,
And faithful Petrarch gloriously crown'd.
Sonnet Ix. Keen, Fitful Gusts Are
John Keats
(1)
Poem topics: feel, green, hair, home, light, silver, sky, gentle, crown, cold, high, cool, dress, distance, distress, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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