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In Honor of National Poetry Month

‘I cry your mercy, pity, love — ay, love!’

I cry your mercy, pity, love — ay, 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 mirror 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 midst of idle misery,

Life’s purposes — the palate of my mind

Losing its guest, and my ambition blind!

-John Keats

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