Lines from Endymion
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:Its loviliness 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,Spite of despondance, of the inhuman dearthOf noble natures, of the gloomy days,Of all the unhealthy and o`er-darkened waysMade for our searching: yes, inspite of all,Some shape of beauty moves away the pallFrom our dark spirits
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:Its loviliness 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,Spite of despondance, of the inhuman dearthOf noble natures, of the gloomy days,Of all the unhealthy and o`er-darkened waysMade for our searching: yes, inspite of all,Some shape of beauty moves away the pallFrom our dark spirits
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