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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420955" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Fancy</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ever let the Fancy roam, <br> Pleasure never is at home:<br> At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth,<br> Like to bubbles when rain pelteth;<br> Then let winged Fancy wander<br> Through the thought still spread beyond her:<br> Open wide the mind's cage-door,<br> She'll dart forth, and cloudward soar.<br> O sweet Fancy! let her loose;<br> Summer's joys are spoilt by use,<br> And the enjoying of the Spring<br> Fades as does its blossoming;<br> Autumn's red-lipp'd fruitage too,<br> Blushing through the mist and dew,<br> Cloys with tasting: What do then?<br> Sit thee by the ingle, when<br> The sear faggot blazes bright,<br> Spirit of a winter's night;<br> When the soundless earth is muffled,<br> And the caked snow is shuffled<br> From the ploughboy's heavy shoon;<br> When the Night doth meet the Noon<br> In a dark conspiracy<br> To banish Even from her sky.<br> Sit thee there, and send abroad,<br> With a mind self-overaw'd,<br> Fancy, high-commission'd:--send her!<br> She has vassals to attend her:<br> She will bring, in spite of frost,<br> Beauties that the earth hath lost;<br> She will bring thee, all together,<br> All delights of summer weather;<br> All the buds and bells of May,<br> From dewy sward or thorny spray;<br> All the heaped Autumn's wealth,<br> With a still, mysterious stealth:<br> She will mix these pleasures up<br> Like three fit wines in a cup,<br> And thou shalt quaff it:--thou shalt hear<br> Distant harvest-carols clear;<br> Rustle of the reaped corn;<br> Sweet birds antheming the morn:<br> And, in the same moment, hark!<br> 'Tis the early April lark,<br> Or the rooks, with busy caw,<br> Foraging for sticks and straw.<br> Thou shalt, at one glance, behold<br> The daisy and the marigold;<br> White-plum'd lillies, and the first<br> Hedge-grown primrose that hath burst;<br> Shaded hyacinth, alway<br> Sapphire queen of the mid-May;<br> And every leaf, and every flower<br> Pearled with the self-same shower.<br> Thou shalt see the field-mouse peep<br> Meagre from its celled sleep;<br> And the snake all winter-thin<br> Cast on sunny bank its skin;<br> Freckled nest-eggs thou shalt see<br> Hatching in the hawthorn-tree,<br> When the hen-bird's wing doth rest<br> Quiet on her mossy nest;<br> Then the hurry and alarm<br> When the bee-hive casts its swarm;<br> Acorns ripe down-pattering,<br> While the autumn breezes sing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Oh, sweet Fancy! let her loose;<br> Every thing is spoilt by use:<br> Where's the cheek that doth not fade,<br> Too much gaz'd at? Where's the maid<br> Whose lip mature is ever new?<br> Where's the eye, however blue,<br> Doth not weary? Where's the face<br> One would meet in every place?<br> Where's the voice, however soft,<br> One would hear so very oft?<br> At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth<br> Like to bubbles when rain pelteth.<br> Let, then, winged Fancy find<br> Thee a mistress to thy mind:<br> Dulcet-ey'd as Ceres' daughter,<br> Ere the God of Torment taught her<br> How to frown and how to chide;<br> With a waist and with a side<br> White as Hebe's, when her zone<br> Slipt its golden clasp, and down<br> Fell her kirtle to her feet,<br> While she held the goblet sweet<br> And Jove grew languid.--Break the mesh<br> Of the Fancy's silken leash;<br> Quickly break her prison-string<br> And such joys as these she'll bring.--<br> Let the winged Fancy roam,<br> Pleasure never is at home.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Keats">John Keats</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420955" data-title="Fancy de John Keats" data-description="Ever let the Fancy roam, 
 Pleasure never is at home:
 At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth,
 Like to bubbles when rain pelteth;
 Then let winged Fancy wander
 Through the thought still spread beyond her:
 Open wide the mind's cage-door,
 She'll dart..."></div>
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