heard melodies are sweet but those unheard are sweeter so says John Keats in the altar of unrequited love we both stand i do wonder if he got to hold Fawne's hand your eyes that sparkle more than the stars if they see my soul i wonder how far what sweeter melodies does promise thy half-parted lips? or what dreams does your soul weave when it sleeps? but the curses of lies is as clear as the sun that would rise you were the first to betray my trust that lighted both night and day.