my sense , as toough of hemlock I had drunk,
[...]
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen
and with thee fade away into the forest dim.
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
what thou among the leaves hast never known,
the weariness, the fever and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
where but to think is to be full of sorrow
and leaden-eyed sepairs,
where Beauty cannot keep her lustruos eyes,
or new Love pine at them beyond tomorrow.
[...]
Already with thee! tender is the night
and happy the Queen moon is on her trone,
clustered around by all her starry Fays
[...]
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet
nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs
[...]
Darkling I listen ; and for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death
Called him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
to take into the air my quite breath,
now more than ever seems rich to die
[...]
Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird
no hungy generations tread thee down ,
the voice I hear this passing night was heard
in ancient days by emperor and clown
[...]
[...]
Was it a vision or a waking dream?
Fled is the music - Do I wake or sleep?
(Keats, Ode to a Nightingale)