Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ON A PRESSED FLOWER IN MY CPOY OF KEATS, by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE



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ON A PRESSED FLOWER IN MY CPOY OF KEATS, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: As keats' old honeyed volume of romance
Last Line: The while my heart weeps for this dear flower's sake.
Subject(s): Flowers; Keats, John (1795-1821); Poetry & Poets


AS Keats' old honeyed volume of romance
I hoped to-day to drink its Latmos air,
I found all pressed a white flower lying where
The shepherd lad watched Pan's herd slow advance.
Ah, then what tender memories did chance
To bring again the day, when from your hair,
This frail carnation, delicate and fair,
You gave me, that I now might taste its trance.
And so to-day it brings a mellow dream
Of that sweet time when but to hear you speak
Filled all my soul. What waves of passion seem
About this flower to linger and to break,
Lit by the glamour of the moon's pale beam
The while my heart weeps for this dear flower's sake.





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