Adonais: An Elegy on the Death of John Keats by Percy Bysshe Shelly

I

I weep for Adonais–he is dead!

Oh, weep for Adonais! though our tears

Thaw not frost which binds so dear a head!

An thou, sad Hour, selected from all years

To mourn our loss, rouse thy obscure compeers,

And teach them thin own sorrow, say: “With me

Died Adonais; till the Future dares

Forget the Past, his fate and fame shall be

An echo and a light unto eternity!”

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