Poem – Bright Star 

Ye unblessed being; 
Born in despair, 

Afore blooming fully 

Was eclipsed by death cruelly.
Though had a little past in poesy Art 

Yet Great and Grand, ceased to be lost 

Ah! Grief came to you as luxury 

Indeed ‘beauty dwells with melancholy’
You’re wrong when you stated 

‘My name was write in water’ 

Behold! Like a Polar Star at night 

That Make sensations dark, illuminated.
A Dime-god of a sensuous claimed; 

Bereaved, bereft and lost. 

Words those you sweetly glossed 

Mistook by many and harshly exclaimed.
Your sweetly tuned phrases 

Are symbol of high Romance 

That brings every soul in trance 

And halt thousand gazes.
An ardent lover and a true Romantic 

You are termed 

As Sappho of modern times 

How enchanting and enthralling are yours rhymes. 

Poem – Bright Star – John Keats

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art– 

Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night 

And watching, with eternal lids apart, 

Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite, 

The moving waters at their priestlike task 

Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores, 

Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask 

Of snow upon the mountains and the moors– 

No–yet still stedfast, still unchangeable, 

Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast, 

To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, 

Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, 

Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, 

And so live ever–or else swoon to death.