THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
103 
ADONIS’ COUCH. 
BY JOHN KEATS. 
On a silken couch of rosy pride, 
In midst of all, there lay a sleeping youth 
Of fondest beauty ; fonder in fair sooth, 
Than sighs could fathom, or contentment reach t 
And coverlids gold-tinted like the peach, 
Or ripe October’s faded marigolds, 
Fell sleek about him in a thousand folds— 
Not hiding up an Apollonian curve 
Of neck and shoulder, nor the tending swerve 
Of knee from knee, nor ankles pointing light; 
But rather giving them to the fill’d sight, 
Officiously. Sideway his face reposed 
On one whue arm, and tenderly unclosed, 
By tenderest pressure, a faint damask mouth, 
To slumbery pout; just as the morning south 
Disparts a dew-lipp’d rose. Above his head 
Four lily stalks did their wide honours wed 
To make a coronet; and round him grew 
All tendrils green, of every bloom and hue, 
Together intertwined and trammell’d fresh j 
The vine of giossy sprout; the ivy mesh, 
Shading its Ethiop berries; and woodbine, 
Of velvet leaves and bugle blooms divine ; 
Convolvulus in streaked vases flush ; 
The creeper, mellowing for an autumn blush 3 
