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!
It's a very beautiful poem. Very sensual and descriptive on how you feel towards her.
Wonderful talented and romancing poem which is written by the great poet. I take it as a pride to read this poem.
Beautiful love poem subtly written from inner recesses of the heart with lovely rhyme scheme. Thanks for sharing.
My mother always called me Blot. I always believed she had little love for me but when I read this poem I felt uplifted. An interesting way to try to define love. Child or otherwise.
The man is grovelling and asking for pity. How pathetic.What woman could respect such a slug.
The linguistic vulgarity attributed to the lesser Keats is never more clear than here- confusion of intention the usual prompt of such a trait.. It's useful to re-read this really quite awful poem in that light. MM
Amen, Michael. To those who said beautiful, wonderful, masterpiece, etc. I say HOGWASH!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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