Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips, bidding adieu

Adieu! she cries; and waved her lily hand.

But were there ever any Writhed not at passed joy?

A thing of beauty is a joy forever.

A thing of beauty is a joy forever; its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness

A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.