“Away! away! for I will fly to thee, / Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, / But on the viewless wings of Poesy: / Already with thee! tender is the night,”

Keats wants to fly to the nightingale on the wings of poetry rather than wine, and the poem's real subject is the flight of the imagination into something that does not age or die. Read as a love poem, it is the most honest account of what the beloved gives us: a place where the night is tender.