JOHN KEATS (1795-1821) To Fanny. I cry your mercy--pity--love!--ay, love! Merciful love that tantalises not One-thoughted, never-wandering, guileless love, Unmask'd, and being seen--without a blot! O! let me have thee whole,--all--all--be mine! That shape, that fairness, that sweet minor zest Of love, your kiss,--those hands, those eyes divine, That warm, white, lucent, million-pleasured breast,-- Yourself--your soul--in pity give me all, Withhold no atom's atom or I die, Or living on, perhaps, your wretched thrall, Forget, in the mist of idle misery, Life's purposes,--the palate of my mind Losing its gust, and my ambition blind! (1819)