Bright Star

Bright Star 

by John Keats

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art- 

Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night

And watching, with eternal lids apart,

Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,

The moving waters at their priestlike task

Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,

Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask

Of snow upon the mountains and the moors- 

No- yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,

Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,

To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,

Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,

Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,

And so live ever- or else swoon to death. 

A Thing Of Beauty (Endymion) 

 by John Keats

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: 

Its lovliness increases; it will never 

Pass into nothingness; but still will keep 

A bower quiet for us, and a sleep 

Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. 

Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing 

A flowery band to bind us to the earth, 

Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth 

Of noble natures, of the gloomy days, 

Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkn'd ways 

Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all, 

Some shape of beauty moves away the pall 

From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, 

Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon 

For simple sheep; and such are daffodils 

With the green world they live in; and clear rills 

That for themselves a cooling covert make 

'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake, 

Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms: 

And such too is the grandeur of the dooms 

We have imagined for the mighty dead; 

An endless fountain of immortal drink, 

Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink. 

Don'T Go Far Off 

by Pablo Neruda

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because -- 

because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long 

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station 

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep. 

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because 

then the little drops of anguish will all run together, 

the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift 

into me, choking my lost heart. 

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach; 

may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance. 

Don't leave me for a second, my dearest, 

because in that moment you'll have gone so far 

I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking, 

Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?