Endymion

(John Keats)

a thing of beauty is a Joy forever
Its loveliness increases, it will never
pass into nothingness; but still will keep
a bower of quiet for us, and a sleep
full of sweet dreams, and health and quiet breathing
therefore on every morrow, are we wreathing
a flowery band to bind us to the earth,
spite of despondence of the inhuman dearth
of noble natures, of gloomy days,
of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
made for our searching: yes in spite of all
some shape of beauty moves away the pall
from our dark spirits. such the sun, the moon,
trees old, and young, sprouting a shady boon
for simple sheep; and such are daffodils
with the green world they live in, and dear rills
that for themselves a cooling covert make
'gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake
rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
and such too is the grandeur of the dooms
we have imagined for the mighty dead
all lovely tales that we have heard or read-
an endless fountain of immortal drink,
pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.