On The Epitaph Of John Keats Poem by Shouvik Narayan Hore

Here lies One whose name was writ in water-
 
O Delphic streams washing aged tombs by!
A single glance spare when violets cry
Near one fading brick- O cruel daughter
Of pearl eyed Mnemosyne unmoist and clear,
Run through thy hands on my consumpted waste,
Bless thus my youth whose visions were chaste,
But half achieved lay my ambitions dear.
 
O sweet stern Apollo, seer of Bards!
Were possessed in me and ye too, Ronsard
Would with glad hearts in my grave deep breathe,
For though my life would be shattered like cards,
I have a world within frail worlds wreathed.