John Keats
First Lines
After dark vapors have oppress'd our plains
As Hermes once took to his feathers light,
As late I rambled in the happy fields,
Blue! 'Tis the life of heaven, -- the domain
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art!
Come hither, all sweet maidens soberly,
Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy
Four seasons fill the measure of the year;
Fresh morning gusts have blown away all fear
Give me a golden pen, and let me lean
Good Kosciusko! thy great name alone
Great spirits now on earth are sojourning:
Had I a man's fair form, then might my sighs
Happy is England! I could be content
Haydon! forgive me that I cannot speak
Hearken, thou craggy ocean pyramid!
High-mindedness, a jealousy for good,
How fever'd is the man, who cannot look
How many bards gild the lapses of time!
I cry your mercy -- pity -- love -- ay, love!
If by dull rhymes our English must be chain'd,
It keeps eternal whisperings around
Keen fitful gusts are whispering here and there
Many the wonders I this day have seen:
Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold,
My spirit is too weak; mortality
Nymph of the downward smile and sidelong glance!
O golden-tongued romance with serene lute!
O solitude! if I must with thee dwell,
O that a week could be an age, and we
Oh! how I love, on a fair summer's eve,
Read me a lesson, Muse, and speak it loud
Small, busy flames play through the fresh-laid coals,
Soft embalmer of the still midnight!
Son of the old moon-mountains African!
Standing aloof in giant ignorance,
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
The poetry of earth is never dead:
This mortal body of a thousand days
This pleasant tale is like a little copse:
Time's sea hath been five years at its low ebb,
To one who has been long in city pent,
What though, for showing truth to flatter'd state,
When I have fears that I may cease to be
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