APOLLO
WHICH of the fairest three
To-day will ride with me?
My steeds are all pawing at the threshold of the morn:
Which of the fairest three
To-day will ride with me
Across the gold Autumn’s whole Kingdom of corn?
THE GRACES all answer
I will, I – I – I
young Apollo let me fly
Along with thee,
I will- I, I, I,
The many wonders see
I – I – I – I
And thy lyre shall never have a slackened string:
I, I, I, I,
Thro’ the golden day will sing.
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More poems by John Keats
