Sonnet To George Keats: Written In Sickness

Brother belov'd if health shall smile again, Upon this wasted form and fever'd cheek: If e'er returning vigour bid these weak And languid limbs their gladsome strength regain, Well may thy brow the placid glow retain Of sweet content and thy pleas'd eye may speak The conscious self applause, but should I seek To utter what this heart can feel, Ah! vain Were the attempt! Yet kindest friends while o'er My couch ye bend, and watch with tenderness The being whom your cares could e'en restore, From the cold grasp of Death, say can you guess The feelings which these lips can ne'er express; Feelings, deep fix'd in grateful memory's store.