Sonnet. Written On A Blank Space At The End Of Chaucer's Tale Of 'The Floure And The Lefe'
This pleasant tale is like a little copse:
The honied lines do freshly interlace,
To keep the reader in so sweet a place,
So that he here and there full hearted stops;
And oftentimes he feels the dewy drops
Come cool and suddenly against his face,
And by the wandering melody may trace
Which way the tender-legged linnet hops.
Oh! What a power hath white simplicity!
What mighty power has this gentle story!
I, that for ever feel athirst for glory,
Could at this moment be content to lie
Meekly upon the grass, as those whose sobbings
Were heard of none beside the mournful robbins.
John Keats's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Sonnet. Written On A Blank Space At The End Of Chaucer's Tale Of 'The Floure And The Lefe' by John Keats )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- Hanging above the blue, Janet Armstrong
- Truth in Prose, Patrick van der Loos
- Mindless Muddle, alex sarich
- The Autistic Land (Sonnet), Maria Magdalena Biela
- Love is love....., PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
- Ode, Morgan Michaels
- Milk, Asit Kumar Sanyal
- A ROBBER'S UGLY ORDEALS, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- To meet each other, Tiku akp
- Maintain That Level Of Decorum, Ronell Warren Alman