Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - Keats lyrics

The young Endymion sleeps Endymion's sleep;   The shepherd-boy whose tale was left half told!   The solemn grove uplifts its shield of gold   To the red rising moon, and loud and deep The nightingale is singing from the steep;   It is midsummer, but the air is cold;   Can it be d**h? Alas, beside the fold   A shepherd's pipe lies shattered near his sheep. Lo! in the moonlight gleams a marble white,   On which I read: "Here lieth one whose name   Was writ in water." And was this the meed Of his sweet singing? Rather let me write:   "The smoking flax before it burst to flame   Was quenched by d**h, and broken the bruised reed."