                                      1816
                                  MODERN LOVE
                                 by John Keats

        And what is love? It is a doll dress'd up
        For idleness to cosset, nurse, and dandle;
        A thing of soft misnomers, so divine
        That silly youth doth think to make itself
        Divine by loving, and so goes on
        Yawning and doting a whole summer long,
        Till Miss's comb is made a pearl tiara,
        And common Wellingtons turn Romeo boots;
        Then Cleopatra lives at number seven,
        And Antony resides in Brunswick Square.
        Fools! if some passions high have warm'd the world,
        If Queens and Soldiers have play'd deep for hearts,
        It is no reason why such agonies
        Should be more common than the growth of weeds.
        Fools! make me whole again that weighty pearl
        The Queen of Egypt melted, and I'll say
        That ye may love in spite of beaver hats.
                        THE END
