1816
                            TRANSLATED FROM RONSARD
                                 by John Keats

        Nature withheld Cassandra in the skies
          For more adornment a full thousand years;
        She took their cream of Beauty's fairest dyes,
          And shap'd and tinted her above all Peers:
        Meanwhile Love kept her dearly with his wings,
          And underneath their shadow fill'd her eyes
        With such a richness that the cloudy Kings
          Of high Olympus utter'd slavish sighs.
        When from the Heavens I saw her first descend
          My heart took fire, and only burning pains
        They were my pleasures- they my Life's sad end;
          Love pour'd her beauty into my warm veins...
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                        THE END
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