Gild The Lapses Of Time

"How many bards gild the lapses of time!
 A few of them have ever been the food
 Of my delighted fancy,- I could brood
 Over their beauties, earthly, or sublime:
 And often, when I sit me down to rhyme,
 These will in throngs before my mind intrude:
 But no confusion, no disturbance rude
 Do they occasion; ’tis a pleasing chime.
 So the unnumber’d sounds that evening store;
 The songs of birds - the whisp’ring of the leaves-
 The voice of waters - the great bell that heaves
 With solemn sound,- and thousand others more,
 That distance of recognizance bereaves,
 Make pleasing music, and not wild uproar."
-John Keats
Una Heroina Romantica by Onhur for Glamour Espana