John Keats,
Hush, hush! tread softly! hush…
(1818)
“ But my Isabel’s eyes and her lips pulped with bloom. 3Lift the latch, ah gently! ah tenderly, sweet, We are dead if that latchet gives one little chink. Well done – now those lips and a flowery seat: The old man may sleep, and the planets may wink ”
