1. <br />In drear-nighted December, <br />Too happy, happy tree, <br />Thy branches ne'er remember <br />Their green felicity: <br />The north cannot undo them <br />With a sleety whistle through them; <br />Nor frozen thawings glue them <br />From budding at the prime. <br /> <br />2. <br />In drear-nighted December, <br />Too happy, happy brook, <br />Thy bubblings ne'er remember <br />Apollo's summer look; <br />But with a sweet forgetting, <br />They stay their crystal fretting, <br />Never, never petting <br />About the frozen time. <br /> <br />3. <br />Ah! would 'twere so with many <br />A gentle girl and boy! <br />But were there ever any <br />Writhed not at passed joy? <br />The feel of not to feel it, <br />When there is none to heal it <br />Nor numbed sense to steel it, <br />Was never said in rhyme.<br /><br />John Keats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/stanzas-in-a-drear-nighted-december/
