put your red dress on

When I have fears that I may cease to be

   Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,

Before high piled books, in charactry,

   Hold like rich garners the full ripen'd grain;

When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,

   Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,

And think that I may never live to trace

   Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;

And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,

   That I shall never look upon thee more,

Never have relish in the fairy power

   Of unreflecting love;-- then on the shore

Of the wide world I stand alone, and think

   Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

-Keats

<3,

Loch.