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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420960" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Fragment Of 'The Castle Builder.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">To-night I'll have my friar -- let me think <br>About my room, -- I'll have it in the pink;<br>It should be rich and sombre, and the moon,<br>Just in its mid-life in the midst of June,<br>Should look thro' four large windows and display<br>Clear, but for gold-fish vases in the way,<br>Their glassy diamonding on Turkish floor;<br>The tapers keep aside, an hour and more,<br>To see what else the moon alone can show;<br>While the night-breeze doth softly let us know<br>My terrace is well bower'd with oranges.<br>Upon the floor the dullest spirit sees<br>A guitar-ribband and a lady's glove<br>Beside a crumple-leaved tale of love;<br>A tambour-frame, with Venus sleeping there,<br>All finish'd but some ringlets of her hair;<br>A viol, bow-strings torn, cross-wise upon<br>A glorious folio of Anacreon;<br>A skull upon a mat of roses lying,<br>Ink'd purple with a song concerning dying;<br>An hour-glass on the turn, amid the trails<br>Of passion-flower; -- just in time there sails<br>A cloud across the moon, -- the lights bring in!<br>And see what more my phantasy can win.<br>It is a gorgeous room, but somewhat sad;<br>The draperies are so, as tho' they had<br>Been made for Cleopatra's winding-sheet;<br>And opposite the stedfast eye doth meet<br>A spacious looking-glass, upon whose face,<br>In letters raven-sombre, you may trace<br>Old 'Mene, Mene, Tekel Upharsin.'<br>Greek busts and statuary have ever been<br>Held, by the finest spirits, fitter far<br>Than vase grotesque and Siamesian jar;<br>Therefore 'tis sure a want of Attic taste<br>That I should rather love a Gothic waste<br>Of eyesight on cinque-coloured potter's clay,<br>Than on the marble fairness of old Greece.<br>My table-coverlits of Jason's fleece<br>And black Numidian sheep-wool should be wrought,<br>Gold, black, and heavy, from the Lama brought.<br>My ebon sofas should delicious be <br>With down from Leda's cygnet progeny.<br>My pictures all Salvator's, save a few<br>Of Titian's portraiture, and one, though new,<br>Of Haydon's in its fresh magnificence.<br>My wine -- O good! 'tis here at my desire,<br>And I must sit to supper with my friar.</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=420960" data-title="Fragment Of 'The Castle Builder. de John Keats" data-description="To-night I'll have my friar -- let me think 
About my room, -- I'll have it in the pink;
It should be rich and sombre, and the moon,
Just in its mid-life in the midst of June,
Should look thro' four large windows and display
Clear, but for gold-fi..."></div>
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