John Keats - Endymion (A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever) | Poetry reading with text

Excerpt from Endymion by John Keats A thing of beauty is a joy for ever, Its loveliness increases, it will never pass into nothingness, But still will keep a bower quiet for us, And a sleep full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the earth, In spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth Of noble natures, of the gloomy days, Of all the unhealthy and over-darkened ways Made for our searching. Yes, in spite of all, some shape of beauty Moves away the pall from our dark spirits, Such as the sun, the moon, trees old and young, Sprouting a shady boon for simple sheep, And such are daffodils with the green world they live in, And clear rills that for themselves a cooling covet make Against the hot season, the mid-forest break, Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms, And such too is the grandeur of the dooms we have imagined for the mighty dead, All lovely tales that we have heard or read, An endless fountain of immortal drink pouring Unto us from the heaven's brink.