"Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul."
"A drainless shower Of light is poesy: 'tis the supreme of power; 'Tis might half slumbering on its own right arm."
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Source: John Keats, Baron Richard Monckton Milnes Houghton (1848). “Life, Letters, and Literary Remains, of John Keats”, p.26
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