Perfectly happy ... talking about Keats.
TO H. F. M.
a sonnet in sunlight
This is a day for sonnets: Oh how clear
Our splendid cliffs and summits lift the gaze—
Were poured and gathered in one sudden blaze,
Then, then perhaps, in some endowered phrase
To tell of you. Your beauty and your praise
Proud and perennial on this pale bright sky;
Of Time, the dusty wrecker. He would sigh