Sweet poets of the gentle antique line,
That made the hue of beauty all eterne;
And gave earth's melodies a silver turn,--Where did you steal your art so right divine?--Sweetly ye memoried every golden
Of your ladies' tresses: -- teach me how to
Death's lone decaying and oblivion
From the sweet forehead of a lady mine.
The golden clusters of enamouring
Glow'd in poetic pictures sweetly well;--Why should not tresses dusk, that are so
On the live brow, have an eternal
In poesy? -- dark eyes are dearer
Than orbs that mock the hyacinthine-bell.
John Keats' sonnet, "Blue! 'Tis the life of heaven," &c. was a reply to this sonnet by Reynolds.
Printed in The Garden Of Florence &c, 1821.
