cache/形成中...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,

Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤOne minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:

‘Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤBut being too happy in thine happiness,—

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThat thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIn some melodious plot

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤOf beechen green, and shadows numberless,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSingest of summer in full-throated ease.
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth,

Tasting of Flora and the country green,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤDance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!

O for a beaker full of the warm South,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFull of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWith beaded bubbles winking at the brim,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd purple-stained mouth;

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThat I might drink, and leave the world unseen,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd with thee fade away into the forest dim:
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ What thou among the leaves hast never known,

The weariness, the fever, and the fret

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;

Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWhere but to think is to be full of sorrow

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd leaden-eyed despairs,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤOr new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNot charioted by Bacchus and his pards,

But on the viewless wings of Poesy,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThough the dull brain perplexes and retards:

Already with thee! tender is the night,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCluster’d around by all her starry Fays;

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤBut here there is no light,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSave what from heaven is with the breezes blown

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThrough verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,

But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWherewith the seasonable month endows

The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWhite hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Fast fading violets cover’d up in leaves;

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd mid-May’s eldest child,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI have been half in love with easeful Death,

Call’d him soft names in many a mused rhyme,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTo take into the air my quiet breath;

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNow more than ever seems it rich to die,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTo cease upon the midnight with no pain,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWhile thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIn such an ecstasy!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤStill wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ To thy high requiem become a sod.
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ No hungry generations tread thee down;

The voice I hear this passing night was heard

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ In ancient days by emperor and clown:

Perhaps the self-same song that found a path

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤShe stood in tears amid the alien corn;

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe same that oft-times hath

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Charm’d magic casements, opening on the foam

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤOf perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ To toll me back from thee to my sole self!

Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ As she is fam’d to do, deceiving elf.

Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Past the near meadows, over the still stream,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤUp the hill-side; and now ‘tis buried deep

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIn the next valley-glades:

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Was it a vision, or a waking dream?