John Keats — To a Friend who sent me some roses

      As late I rambled in the happy fields,      What time the sky-lark shakes the tremulous dew      From his lush clover covert;—when anew Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields: I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields,      A fresh-blown musk-rose; 'twas the first that threw      Its sweets upon the summer: graceful it grew As is the wand that queen Titania wields. And, as I feasted on its fragrancy,      I thought the garden-rose it far excell'd: But when, O Wells! thy roses came to me      My sense with their deliciousness was spell'd: Soft voices had they, that with tender plea       Whisper'd of peace, and truth, and friendliness unquell'd.