Show I roLD OLD MASTERS 1 Thou east wast not born for tor death Immortal Bird o hungry generations tread thee down The Tho voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown Perhaps the tho same self song that found a a. path Through the sad heart or of Ruth Huth when sick for tor home She stood In tears amid the allen alien corn The same that times oft hath bath Charmed magi casements open open- opening Ing on the foam Ot Of Perilous seas in faery lands I Forlorn 1 The ery word Is like a bell To toll nie mo back from thee to my sole self 1 Adieu The fancy tancy cannot cheat so vell All As she Is famed to do deceiving elf Adieu Adieu Thy plaintive an an- anthem them fades Past the near meadows over the stream Up the hill side and now Us burll deep In the next Was l it a vision or a a. waking S dream roain Fled Is the tho do I wal wake e or sleep John Keats From Ode to a aIg Nightingale Ig h II e. e |