Give me a golden pen, and let me lean <br />On heaped-up flowers, in regions clear, and far; <br />Bring me a tablet whiter than a star, <br />Or hand of hymning angel, when 'tis seen <br />The silver strings of heavenly harp atween: <br />And let there glide by many a pearly car <br />Pink robes, and wavy hair, and diamond jar, <br />And half-discovered wings, and glances keen. <br />The while let music wander round my ears, <br />And as it reaches each delicious ending, <br />Let me write down a line of glorious tone, <br />And full of many wonders of the spheres: <br />For what a height my spirit is contending! <br />'Tis not content so soon to be alone.<br /><br />John Keats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xii-on-leaving-some-friends-at-an-early-hour/
