Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die.
Undertaker + Ode to a Nightingale - John Keats (May 1819)

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Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die.
Undertaker + Ode to a Nightingale - John Keats (May 1819)