I cry your mercy—pity—love!—aye, love!
Merciful love that tantalizes not,
One-thoughted, never-wandering, guileless love,
Unmasked, and being seen—without a blot!
O! let me have thee whole,—all—all—be mine!
That shape, that fairness, that sweet minor zest
Of love, your kiss,—those hands, those eyes divine,
That warm, white, lucent, million-pleasured breast,—
Yourself—your soul—in pity give me all,
Withhold no atom's atom or I die,
Or living on, perhaps, your wretched thrall,
Forget, in the mist of idle misery,
Life's purposes,—the palate of my mind
Losing its gust, and my ambition blind!
Now this is what I call romancing your woman. He says it all here, without love his palate is blind, we all need loving to truly see the multi colours of our open minds. I am a great admirer of such a talented and tragically young poet. Tai, needing a little of his shot in the arm
Beautiful love poem subtly written from inner recesses of the heart with lovely rhyme scheme. Thanks for sharing.
Wonderful talented and romancing poem which is written by the great poet. I take it as a pride to read this poem.
My mother always called me Blot. I always believed she had little love for me but when I read this poem I felt uplifted. An interesting way to try to define love. Child or otherwise.
The man is grovelling and asking for pity. How pathetic.What woman could respect such a slug.
The linguistic vulgarity attributed to the lesser Keats is never more clear than here- confusion of intention the usual prompt of such a trait.. It's useful to re-read this really quite awful poem in that light. MM
Amen, Michael. To those who said beautiful, wonderful, masterpiece, etc. I say HOGWASH!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It's a very beautiful poem. Very sensual and descriptive on how you feel towards her.