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John Keats - On A Dream
Work rating: Medium

As Hermes once took to his feathers light
  When lulled Argus, baffled, swoon`d and slept,
So on a Delphic reed my idle spright
  So play`d, so charm`d, so conquer`d, so bereft
The dragon-world of all its hundred eyes,
  And, seeing it asleep, so fled away:
Not to pure Ida with its snow-cold skies,
  Nor unto Tempe where Jove griev`d a day;
But to that second circle of sad hell,
  Where `mid the gust, the whirlwind, and the flaw
Of rain and hail-stones, lovers need not tell
  Their sorrows. Pale were the sweet lips I saw,
Pale were the lips I kiss`d, and fair the form
I floated with, about that melancholy storm.
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