Thou wast notborn for death,immortal Bird!No hungry generationstread thee down;The voice I hearthis passing nightwas heardIn ancient daysby emperor and clown:Perhaps the self-same songthat found a pathThrough the sad heartof Ruth,when, sick for home,She stood in tearsamid the alien corn;The same thatoft-times hathCharm’d magic casements,opening on the foamOf perilous seas,in faery lands forlorn. — #Keats 🪦🪦🧚️🪦🪦
