A Thing Of Beauty Poem by amina kamran

A Thing for beauty is a joy forever
Its loveliness increases, it will never
Pass into nothingness, but still will keep
A bower quite for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quite 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 over-darkened way
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep: such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; water and 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 the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.