As Hermes once took to his feathers light, <br />When lulled Argus, baffled, swooned and slept, <br />So on a Delphic reed, my idle spright <br />So played, so charmed, so conquered, so bereft <br />The dragon-world of all its hundred eyes; <br />And seeing it asleep, so fled away-- <br />Not to pure Ida with its snow-cold skies, <br />Nor unto Tempe, where Jove grieved a day; <br />But to that second circle of sad Hell, <br />Where in the gust, the whirlwind, and the flaw <br />Of rain and hail-stones, lovers need not tell <br />Their sorrows. Pale were the sweet lips I saw, <br />Pale were the lips I kissed, and fair the form <br />I floated with, about that melancholy storm.<br /><br />John Keats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-a-dream-after-reading-dante-s-episode-of-paulo-and-francesca/
