Poems List

How many bards gild the lapses of time!

Poems [1817]. Sonnet. How Many Bards Gild the Lapses of Time

2

You Say You Love

You Say You Love

I
You say you love ; but with a voice
Chaster than a nun's, who singeth
The soft Vespers to herself
While the chime-bell ringeth-
O love me truly!


II
You say you love; but with a smile
Cold as sunrise in September,
As you were Saint Cupid 's nun,
And kept his weeks of Ember.
O love me truly!


III
You say you love but then your lips
Coral tinted teach no blisses,
More than coral in the sea
They never pout for kisses
O love me truly!


IV
You say you love ; but then your hand
No soft squeeze for squeeze returneth,
It is like a statue's dead
While mine to passion burneth
O love me truly!


V
O breathe a word or two of fire!
Smile, as if those words should bum me,
Squeeze as lovers should O kiss
And in thy heart inurn me!
O love me truly!
459

Written on a Summer Evening

Written on a Summer Evening

The church bells toll a melancholy round,
Calling the people to some other prayers,
Some other gloominess, more dreadful cares,
More harkening to the sermon's horrid sound.
Surely the mind of man is closely bound
In some blind spell: seeing that each one tears
Himself from fireside joys and Lydian airs,
And converse high of those with glory crowned.
Still, still they toll, and I should feel a damp,
A chill as from a tomb, did I not know
That they are dying like an outburnt lamp, -
That 'tis their sighing, wailing, ere they go
Into oblivion -that fresh flowers will grow,
And many glories of immortal stamp.
418

Written on a Blank Space

Written on a Blank Space

This pleasant tale is like a little copse:
The honied lines so freshly interlace,
To keep the reader in so sweet a place,
So that he here and there full-hearted stops;
And oftentimes he feels the dewy drops
Come cool and suddenly against his face,
And, by the wandering melody, may trace
Which way the tender-legged linnet hops.
Oh! what a power has white Simplicity!
What mighty power has this gentle story!
I, that do ever feel athirst for glory,
Could at this moment be content to lie
Meekly upon the grass, as those whose sobbings
Were heard of none beside the mournful robins.
376

Written Before Re-Reading King Lear

Written Before Re-Reading King Lear

O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute!
Fair plumed Syren! Queen of far away!
Leave melodizing on this wintry day,
Shut up thine olden pages, and be mute.
Adieu! for once again the fierce dispute
Betwixt damnation and impassioned clay
Must I burn through; once more humbly assay
The bitter-sweet of this Shakespearian fruit.
Chief Poet! and ye clouds of Albion,
Begetters of our deep eternal theme,
When through the old oak Forest I am gone,
Let me not wander in a barren dream,
But when I am consumed in the Fire,
Give me new Phoenix wings to fly at my desire.
427

Where Be Ye Going, You Devon Maid?

Where Be Ye Going, You Devon Maid?

WHERE be ye going, you Devon maid?
And what have ye there i' the basket?
Ye tight little fairy, just fresh from the dairy,
Will ye give me some cream if I ask it?

I love your meads, and I love your flowers,
And I love your junkets mainly,
But 'hind the door, I love kissing more,
O look not so disdainly!

I love your hills, and I love your dales,
And I love your flocks a-bleating;
But O, on the heather to lie together,
With both our hearts a-beating!

I'll put your basket all safe in a nook,
Your shawl I'll hang up on this willow,
And we will sigh in the daisy's eye,
And kiss on a grass-green pillow.
414

Why did I laugh tonight? No voice will tell

Why did I laugh tonight? No voice will tell

Why did I laugh tonight? No voice will tell
No God, no demon of severe response
Deigns to reply from heaven or from hell
Then to my human heart I turn at once:
Heart, thou and I are here, sad and alone,
Say, why did I laugh? O mortal pain!
O darkness! darkness! Forever must I moan
To question heaven and hell and heart in vain?
Why did I laugh? I know this being's lease
My fancy to it's utmost blisses spreads
Yet would I on this very midnight cease
And all the world's gaudy ensigns see in shreds
Verse, fame and beauty are intense indeed
But death intenser, death is life's high meed.
449

When I Have Fears

When I Have Fears

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripen'd grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power

Of unreflecting love;--then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
460

Two Sonnets. To Haydon, With A Sonnet Written On Seeing The Elgin Marbles

Two Sonnets. To Haydon, With A Sonnet Written On Seeing The Elgin Marbles

I.
Haydon! forgive me that I cannot speak
Definitively of these mighty things;
Forgive me, that I have not eagle's wings,
That what I want I know not where to seek,
And think that I would not be over-meek,
In rolling out upfollowed thunderings,
Even to the steep of Heliconian springs,
Were I of ample strength for such a freak.
Think, too, that all these numbers should be thine;
Whose else? In this who touch thy vesture's hem?
For, when men stared at what was most divine
With brainless idiotism and o'erwise phlegm,
Thou hadst beheld the full Hesperian shine
Of their star in the east, and gone to worship them.
II. On Seeing The Elgin Marbles.
My spirit is too weak - mortality
Weighs heavily upon me like unwilling sleep,
And each imagined pinnacle and steep
Of godlike hardship tells me I must die
Like a sick eagle looking at the sky.
Yet 'tis a gentle luxury to weep
That I have not the cloudy winds to keep,
Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye.
Such dim-conceived glories of the brain
Bring round the heart an undescribable feud;
So do these wonders a most dizzy pain,
That mingles Grecian grandeur with the rude
Wasting of old Time -- with a billowy main --
A sun -- a shadow of a magnitude.
424

Two Or Three

Two Or Three

Two or three Posies
With two or three simples--
Two or three Noses
With two or three pimples--
Two or three wise men
And two or three ninny's--
Two or three guineas--
Two or three raps
At two or three doors--
Two or three naps
Of two or three hours--
Two or three Cats
And two or three mice--
Two or three sprats
At a very great price--
Two or three sandies
And two or three tabbies--
Two or three dandies
And two Mrs.------
Two or three Smiles
And two or three frowns--
Two or three Miles
To two or three towns--
Two or three pegs
For two or three bonnets--
Two or three dove eggs
To hatch into sonnets.
433

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Identification and basic context

John Keats was a pivotal English Romantic poet. He is often grouped with Lord Byron and Percy Bysshe Shelley as the second generation of great Romantic poets. Despite his short life, his poetry achieved remarkable depth and beauty, making him one of the most influential figures in English literature. He wrote primarily in English and is celebrated for his rich imagery, exploration of beauty and truth, and his profound meditations on life and death.

Childhood and education

Keats's childhood was marked by tragedy, including the early death of his father and later his mother. He received a sound education at John Clarke's school in Enfield, where he developed a passion for classical literature. His early readings of Edmund Spenser's 'The Faerie Queene' and later the works of Leigh Hunt and William Wordsworth were significant influences. He also studied Latin and Greek, which informed his classical allusions and aesthetic sensibilities.

Literary trajectory

Keats initially trained as an apothecary-surgeon but abandoned medicine to pursue poetry. His first volume of poems, 'Poems,' was published in 1817, receiving a mixed reception. His major works, including 'Endymion,' 'The Fall of Hyperion,' and his collection of 1820 (containing his most famous odes), were produced in a remarkably fertile period. Despite critical hostility from some quarters, his poetic development was rapid and profound, moving from imitative beginnings to a unique and powerful voice.

Works, style, and literary characteristics

Keats's major works include the epic poem 'Hyperion,' the narrative poem 'Endymion,' and his series of celebrated odes: 'Ode to a Nightingale,' 'Ode on a Grecian Urn,' 'To Autumn,' 'Ode on Melancholy,' and 'Ode to Psyche.' His poetry is characterized by its intense sensory appeal, its exploration of beauty and its relationship to truth, and its meditations on mortality, joy, and sorrow. He employed rich, evocative language, elaborate metaphors, and a mastery of form, particularly the sonnet and the ode. His tone often ranges from ecstatic celebration of beauty to profound melancholy and existential questioning. Keats's innovation lay in his deep sensuousness and his philosophical engagement with the paradoxes of human experience.

Cultural and historical context

Keats was part of the second wave of English Romanticism, a movement that emphasized individualism, emotion, and the power of imagination. He was influenced by contemporary Romantics like Wordsworth and Coleridge, but also by classical literature. His work emerged during a period of significant social and political change in Britain, though his focus remained largely on aesthetic and philosophical concerns rather than direct political engagement. He faced harsh criticism from conservative periodicals like 'Blackwood's Magazine,' which attacked his perceived lack of breeding and his association with radical writers like Leigh Hunt.

Personal life

Keats's personal life was shadowed by illness and financial hardship. His engagement to Fanny Brawne was a significant emotional experience, providing inspiration for some of his most poignant love poetry, but also a source of anxiety due to his precarious health and financial situation. He nursed his brother Tom through tuberculosis and eventually succumbed to the disease himself, dying in Rome.

Recognition and reception

While Keats achieved some recognition during his lifetime, his work was not widely celebrated and even faced severe criticism. However, posthumously, his reputation grew exponentially. By the mid-19th century, he was recognized as one of the greatest English poets, admired for his imaginative power and aesthetic perfection. His influence on subsequent poets and literary movements has been immense.

Influences and legacy

Keats was influenced by classical poets like Homer and Virgil, as well as by English poets such as Spenser, Shakespeare, and Wordsworth. He, in turn, had a profound influence on later poets, including Alfred Lord Tennyson, Matthew Arnold, and the Aesthetic Movement. His legacy is cemented in his exquisite odes and sonnets, which continue to be studied, admired, and cherished for their exploration of beauty, truth, and the human condition. His concept of 'negative capability'—the ability to be in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason—is a significant contribution to literary theory.

Interpretation and critical analysis

Keats's poetry is subject to continuous critical interpretation, focusing on themes of beauty versus truth, the relationship between art and life, the experience of mortality, and the power of the imagination. His 'Ode on a Grecian Urn,' with its famous closing lines, has been particularly debated. His work is often analyzed for its rich sensory details, its exploration of complex emotional states, and its profound philosophical inquiries into the nature of existence.

Curiosities and lesser-known aspects

Keats's early ambition was to become a great poet, and he pursued this goal with remarkable dedication despite immense personal obstacles. He was known for his intense, almost feverish, creative periods. His letters reveal a deep intellectual curiosity and a profound sensitivity to beauty. A lesser-known aspect is his intense rivalry and admiration for Wordsworth, whom he saw as a great poet, yet sometimes criticized.

Death and memory

John Keats died of tuberculosis in Rome at the age of 25. His premature death contributed to his romantic legend and his status as a poet whose genius was cut short. He was buried in the Protestant Cemetery in Rome. His memory is honored through numerous literary studies, critical editions of his work, and the enduring appreciation of his poetry by readers worldwide.