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John Keats : Sonnet VII

O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,
	Let it not be among the jumbled heap
	Of murky buildings; climb with me the steep,—
Nature's observatory—when the dell,
Its flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell,
	May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep
	'Mongst boughs pavillion'd where the deer's swift
Startles the wild bee from the fox-glove bell.
But though I'll gladly trace these scenes with thee,
	Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind,
	Whose words are images of thoughts refin'd,
Is my soul's pleasure; and it sure must be
	Almost the highest bliss of human-kind,
When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee. 

John Keats (1795-1821)	1817


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