433. from the Eve of St Agnes by John Keats
b'J Keats read by Classic Poetry Aloud: Giving voice to the poetry of the past.\\nwww.classicpoetryaloud.com\\n\\n--------------------------------------------\\n\\nfromThe Eve of St. Agnes\\nby John Keats (1795 \\u2013 1821)\\n\\n\\nXXXIII\\n Awakening up, he took her hollow lute,\\u2014 \\n Tumultuous,\\u2014and, in chords that tenderest be, \\n He play\\u2019d an ancient ditty, long since mute, \\n In Provence call\\u2019d, \\u201cLa belle dame sans mercy:\\u201d \\n Close to her ear touching the melody;\\u2014 \\n Wherewith disturb\\u2019d, she utter\\u2019d a soft moan: \\n He ceased\\u2014she panted quick\\u2014and suddenly \\n Her blue affrayed eyes wide open shone: \\nUpon his knees he sank, pale as smooth-sculptured stone. \\n \\nXXXIV\\n Her eyes were open, but she still beheld, \\n Now wide awake, the vision of her sleep: \\n There was a painful change, that nigh expell\\u2019d \\n The blisses of her dream so pure and deep \\n At which fair Madeline began to weep, \\n And moan forth witless words with many a sigh; \\n While still her gaze on Porphyro would keep; \\n Who knelt, with joined hands and piteous eye, \\nFearing to move or speak, she look\\u2019d so dreamingly. \\n \\nXXXV\\n \\u201cAh, Porphyro!\\u201d said she, \\u201cbut even now \\n \\u201cThy voice was at sweet tremble in mine ear, \\n \\u201cMade tuneable with every sweetest vow; \\n \\u201cAnd those sad eyes were spiritual and clear: \\n \\u201cHow chang\\u2019d thou art! how pallid, chill, and drear! \\n \\u201cGive me that voice again, my Porphyro, \\n \\u201cThose looks immortal, those complainings dear! \\n \\u201cOh leave me not in this eternal woe, \\n\\u201cFor if thou diest, my Love, I know not where to go.\\u201d \\n \\nXXXVI\\n Beyond a mortal man impassion\\u2019d far \\n At these voluptuous accents, he arose, \\n Ethereal, flush\\u2019d, and like a throbbing star \\n Seen mid the sapphire heaven\\u2019s deep repose; \\n Into her dream he melted, as the rose \\n Blendeth its odour with the violet,\\u2014 \\n Solution sweet: meantime the frost-wind blows \\n Like Love\\u2019s alarum pattering the sharp sleet \\nAgainst the window-panes; St. Agnes\\u2019 moon hath set. \\n\\n\\nFirst aired: 20 February 2009\\n\\nFor hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index.\\n\\nReading \\xa9 Classic Poetry Aloud 2009'