I cannot see what flowers are at my feet

　　Nor what soft incensehangs upon the boughs37

　　But in embalmed38 darkness guess each sweet39

　　Wherewith the seasonable month40 endows

　　The grass the thicket41 and the fruit-tree wild--

　　White hawthorn and the pastoral eglantine42;

　　Fast fading violets43 covered up in leaves;

　　And mid-May's eldest child44

　　The coming musk-rose full of dewy wine

　　The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves45.

　　Darkling46 I listen; and for many a time

　　I have been half in love with easeful Death

　　Called him soft names in many a mused rhyme47

　　To take into the air my quiet breath48;

　　Now more than ever seems it rich to die

　　To cease upon the midnight with no pain

　　While thou art pouring49 forth thy soul abroad

　　In such an ecstasy50!

　　Still wouldst thou sing and I have ears in vain --

　　To thy high requiem51 become a sod52.

　　Thou wast53 not born for death immortal Bird54!

　　No hungry generations55 treadthee down;

　　The voice I hear this passing night eas heard

　　In ancient days by emperor and clown56:

　　Perhaps57 the self-same58 song that found a path

　　Through the sad heart of Ruth59 when sick for home

　　She stood in tears amid the alien corn;

　　The same that oft-times60 hath61

　　Charm’d magic casement62 opening on the foam

　　Of perilous63 seas in faery lands64 forlorn65.

　　Forlorn66! the very word is like a bell

　　To toll67 me back from thee to my sole self68!

　　Adieu69! the fancy cannot cheat so well

　　As she is famed to do deceiving elf.

　　Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem7fades

　　Past the near meadows over the still stream

　　Up the hill-side75; and now 'tis buried76 deep

　　In the next valley-glades:

　　Was is a vision or a waking dream?

　　Fled is that music -- Do I wake or sleep?

　　I cannot see what flowers are at my feet

　　Nor what soft incensehangs upon the boughs37

　　But in embalmed38 darkness guess each sweet39

　　Wherewith the seasonable month40 endows

　　The grass the thicket41 and the fruit-tree wild--

　　White hawthorn and the pastoral eglantine42;

　　Fast fading violets43 covered up in leaves;

　　And mid-May's eldest child44

　　The coming musk-rose full of dewy wine

　　The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves45.

　　Darkling46 I listen; and for many a time

　　I have been half in love with easeful Death

　　Called him soft names in many a mused rhyme47

　　To take into the air my quiet breath48;

　　Now more than ever seems it rich to die

　　To cease upon the midnight with no pain

　　While thou art pouring49 forth thy soul abroad

　　In such an ecstasy50!

　　Still wouldst thou sing and I have ears in vain --

　　To thy high requiem51 become a sod52.

　　Thou wast53 not born for death immortal Bird54!

　　No hungry generations55 treadthee down;

　　The voice I hear this passing night eas heard

　　In ancient days by emperor and clown56:

　　Perhaps57 the self-same58 song that found a path

　　Through the sad heart of Ruth59 when sick for home

　　She stood in tears amid the alien corn;

　　The same that oft-times60 hath61

　　Charm’d magic casement62 opening on the foam

　　Of perilous63 seas in faery lands64 forlorn65.

　　Forlorn66! the very word is like a bell

　　To toll67 me back from thee to my sole self68!

　　Adieu69! the fancy cannot cheat so well

　　As she is famed to do deceiving elf.

　　Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem7fades

　　Past the near meadows over the still stream

　　Up the hill-side75; and now 'tis buried76 deep

　　In the next valley-glades:

　　Was is a vision or a waking dream?

　　Fled is that music -- Do I wake or sleep?