On the Sale by Auction of Keat's Love-Letters

These are the letters which Endymion wrote

To one he loved in secret and apart

And now the brawlers of the auction-mart

Bargain and bid for each poor blotted note

Aye! for each separate pulse of passion quote

The merchant's price! I think they love not art

Who break the crystal of a poet's heart

That small and sickly eyes may glare or gloat.