IN THE STANZA OF KEATS'S ODES I. Three days before My eyes are heedful of the very day, Whose coming my heart feigns hard not to know, For ails me the pale shadow of dismay Seen beneath the moonlight of aloof woe. O thou whose fair hands dancing through the loom, Weaving thy sighs into an echoing chant, That might flow across the Water wide Of lover's parting doom! Can thy melody of heart-piercing want Reach thy handsome herdsman grief-petrified? II. Two days before Still from the herald I turn away my eyes, But secretly stirred is my stubborn heart And tempted to form a fancy that lies In the vault where the Pair are torn apart. O thou who sits besides the glowing flow, Holding the two weeping for mother's care, Wouldst thou sing them a lullaby of tear As the stars flying through To furrow across the celestial air And enlighten mortals dwelling down here? III. A day before 'Tis one day before the blessed moment Of the sweet and long-awaiting reunion. I withdraw my eyes from the firmament And awake from th sacred oblivion. O ye pining Pair aspiring to the Night To delight after the endless hours Of separation! Could we mere mortals Know thy cycling plight, Who are drunken in our lustful bowers To take the day as some vain carnivals? IV. The very Night O the amorous advent! So I sleep And plunge again to the fanciful dream, Where I see an Arc reared upon the deep Of the Milky Way, the shining starry stream! In the warbling tune of magpies merry I sense your voice unheard, your face unseen, And your hands untouched save the lustrous loom: What pang-pursued ecstasy! Soon it ends by the sunbeam sharp and clean, And your absence turns a new leaf of gloom. --

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