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<p>[QUOTE=&quot;Orfew, post: 3116512, member: 74968&quot;]One of my favourite poems by John Keats (dead at the age of 25)</p><p><br /></p><p>When I have fears that I may cease to be </p><p>&nbsp;Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain, </p><p>Before high-pilèd books, in charactery, </p><p>&nbsp;Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain; </p><p>When I behold, upon the night’s starred face, </p><p>&nbsp;Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, </p><p>And think that I may never live to trace </p><p>&nbsp;Their shadows with the magic hand of chance; </p><p>And when I feel, fair creature of an hour, </p><p>&nbsp;That I shall never look upon thee more, </p><p>Never have relish in the faery power </p><p>&nbsp;Of unreflecting love—then on the shore </p><p>Of the wide world I stand alone, and think </p><p>Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.[/QUOTE]</p><p><br /></p>

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