My love is like a shadow out of the moon, In silence, painted upon the half-lit dew; Endless fields sway and memory seek, and soon, And looks like this —I seem to roam to you. Your beauty lingers on, as most fragrant spoons:

Give to me your warmth, rare hour of light, As if the day passed slowly to show the night: Holding but a wonder like this early moon, All things allow our stay, to give us room.

— To My Love

• John Keats