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(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821 / London, England)

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To Fanny

I cry your mercy—pity—love!—aye, love!
Merciful love that tantalizes not,
One-thoughted, never-wandering, guileless love,
Unmasked, and being seen—without a blot!
O! let me have thee whole,—all—all—be mine!
That shape, that fairness, that sweet minor zest
Of love, your kiss,—those hands, those eyes divine,
That warm, white, lucent, million-pleasured breast,—
Yourself—your soul—in pity give me all,
Withhold no atom's atom or I die,
Or living on, perhaps, your wretched thrall,
Forget, in the mist of idle misery,
Life's purposes,—the palate of my mind
Losing its gust, and my ambition blind!

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003


Read poems about / on: kiss, love, life, lost

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  • Tai Chi Italy (12/29/2007 9:16:00 PM)

    Now this is what I call romancing your woman. He says it all here, without love his palate is blind, we all need loving to truly see the multi colours of our open minds. I am a great admirer of such a talented and tragically young poet. Tai, needing a little of his shot in the arm

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