Poem: On The Sale By Auction Of Keats' Love Letters

These are the letters which Endymion wrote

To one he loved in secret, and apart.

And now the brawlers of the auction mart

Bargain and bid for each poor blotted note,

上海龙凤shlf最新地址Ay! for each separate pulse of passion quote

The merchant's price.  I think they love not art

Who break the crystal of a poet's heart

That small and sickly eyes may glare and gloat.

Is it not said that many years ago,

In a far Eastern town, some soldiers ran

With torches through the midnight, and began

上海龙凤shlf最新地址To wrangle for mean raiment, and to throw

Dice for the garments of a wretched man,

上海龙凤shlf最新地址Not knowing the God's wonder, or His woe?