This love letter is a bit long for my taste, but I thought it was so sweet I simply could not pass it by. Keats is an interesting looking fellow. It seems odd to me, that I am not one bit surprised his sweet heart's name is Fanny.
You fear, sometimes, I do not love you so much as you wish?
My dear Girl I love you ever and ever and without reserve.
The more I have known you the more have I lov'd. In every way - even my jealousies have been agonies of Love, in the hottest fit I ever had I would have died for you.
You are always new. The last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest.
When you pass'd my window home yesterday, I was fill'd with as much admiration as if I had then seen you for the first time. Even if you did not love me I could not help an entire devotion to you: how much more deeply then must I feel for you knowing you love me.
My Mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.
I never felt my Mind repose upon anything with complete and undistracted enjoyment - upon no person but you.
When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of window: you always concentrate my whole senses.