                                      1816
              ON A LEANDER GEM WHICH A YOUNG LADY GAVE THE AUTHOR
                                 by John Keats

        Come hither all sweet maidens soberly,
          Down-looking, aye, and with a chasten'd light
          Hid in the fringes of your eyelids white,
        And meekly let your fair hands joined be,
        As if so gentle that ye could not see,
          Untouch'd, a victim of your beauty bright
          Sinking away to his young spirit's night,
        Sinking bewilder'd 'mid the dreary sea:
        'Tis young Leander toiling to his death;
          Nigh swooning, he doth purse his weary lips
            For Hero's cheek, and smiles against her smile.
          O horrid dream! see how his body dips
            Dead-heavy; arms and shoulders gleam awhile:
        He's gone: up bubbles all his amorous breath!


                        THE END
