Keats loses his vision when he says “I cannot see what flower are at my feet, / Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,” (IV. 41). Afterward, he is granted a heightened sense of smell and invokes this sense with words such as embalmed, sweet, seasonable seasons (an intriguing play on words), hawthorn’s distinct odor, pastoral eglantine, violets’ indirect smell which is significantly “cover’d,” a musk-rose (sounds like some Spanish wine I know), and then tops it off with dewy wine. In stanza five, Keats is gifted with the sense of increased sound which he intonates in the first line “[...]I listen [...]” (51). Additionally, the words of sound fill the breath of every line in this stanza which include call, soft, names, mused, rhyme, air,
