Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call’d him soft names in many a musèd rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die,To cease upon the midnight with no pain,While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! ― John Keats

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Darkling I listen; and, for many a time	 I have been half in love with easeful Death,	 Call'd him soft names in many a musèd rhyme,	 To take into the air my quiet breath;	 Now more than ever seems it rich to die,To cease upon the midnight with no pain,While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad	 In such an ecstasy!
― John Keats
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a musèd rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die,To cease upon the midnight with no pain,While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! ― John Keats

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call’d him soft names in many a musèd rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die,To cease upon the midnight with no pain,While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy!
― John Keats

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