John Keats Ode to a Nightingale
enjoy glorious voice of Benedict Cumberbatch My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethewards had sunk: Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, That thou, lightwinged Dryad of the trees In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in fullthroated ease. O, for a draught of vintage that hath been Cool d a lo
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