THE MEADOW BEAUTY, 



RHEXIA VIRGINICA L. 



A THING of beauty is a joy forever : 



Its loveliness increases; it will never 



Pass into nothingness; but will keep 



A bower quiet for us, and a sleep 



Full of sv/eet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. 



Therefore, on every morrow are we wreathing 



A flowery band to bind us to the earth, 



Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth 



Of noble natures, of the gloomy days, 



Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways 



Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all, 



Some shape of beauty moves above the pall 



From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, 



Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon 



For simple sheep; and such are daffodils 



With the green world they live in; the clear rills 



That for themselves a cooling covert make 



'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake, 



Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms: 



And such, too, is the grandeur of the dooms 



We have imagined for the mighty dead; 



All lovely tales that we have heard or read: 



An endless fountain of immortal drink, 



Pouring into us from the heavens' brink. 



Keats. 

 [95] 



