A Thing of Beauty Poem by John Keats
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:Its loveliness increases; it will neverPass into nothingness; but still will keepA bower quiet for us, and a sleepFull of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathingA flowery band to bind us to the earth, Some shape of beauty moves away … Read more
You must be logged in to post a comment.