On Fame (How fever'd is the man, who cannot look ...)

by John Keats

You cannot eat your cake and have it too.
-- Proverb.

How fever'd is the man, who cannot look
Upon his mortal days with temperate blood,
Who vexes all the leaves of his life's book,
And robs his fair name of its maidenhood:
It is as if the rose should pluck herself,
Or the ripe plum finger its misty bloom;
As if a Naiad, like a meddling elf,
Should darken her pure grot with muddy gloom,
But the rose leaves herself upon the brier,
For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed,
And the ripe plum still wears its dim attire,
The undisturbed lake has crystal space:
Why then should man, teasing the world for grace,
Spoil his salvation for a fierce miscreed?

1819.

Source:

The poetical works of John Keats.
Copyright 1871
James Miller, 647 Broadway, New York
 

Recommended Works

To My Brother - John KeatsOn A Picture Of Leander - John KeatsThe Seraph And Poet - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningDarkness surrounds me with its phantom hosts... - Anne WhitneyO Mankind's God! most silent and most lowly - Anne WhitneyContinence - Anne WhitneyTo A Sleeping Child - Thomas HoodFalse Poets And True - Thomas HoodHappy is England! I could be content ... - John KeatsThe Soul's Expression - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo My Brother George - John KeatsOn A Portrait Of Wordsworth - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Prisoner - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningPast And Future - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningA Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningIf by dull rhymes our English must be chain'd ... - John KeatsAn Apprehension - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo ____. (My heart is sick with longing, though I feed) - Thomas HoodTo George Sand: A Recognition - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo Haydon - John KeatsTo Ailsa Rock - John KeatsThe day is gone, and all its sweets are gone! ... - John KeatsThe Same (Twas then we said...) - Anne WhitneySonnet To A Sonnet - Thomas HoodTo The Nile - John KeatsTo Fancy - Thomas HoodTo The Ocean - Thomas HoodHow bravely Autumn paints upon the sky - Thomas HoodTo _. (Time's sea hath been five years at its low ebb, ...) - John KeatsTo Sleep - John KeatsOn First Looking Into Chapman's Homer - John KeatsO high-born souls, such as God sends to mould... - Anne WhitneyWork And Contemplation - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThis pleasant tale is like a little copse: ... - John KeatsOn Fame (How fever'd is the man, who cannot look ...) - John KeatsYet are there sunbeams, though the kingly sun... - Anne WhitneyComfort (Speak low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet ...) - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo Kosciusko - John KeatsThe Human Seasons - John KeatsBy every sweet tradition of true hearts,... - Thomas HoodGrief - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningPatience Taught By Nature - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningSo reed-like fragile, in the world's whirl nought... - Anne WhitneyTo _. (Had I a man's fair form, then might my sighs ...) - John KeatsTo A Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses - John KeatsTo Homer - John KeatsWhen I have fears that I may cease to be ... - John KeatsOn A Dream - John KeatsNight - Anne WhitneyWithin my life another life runs deep, - Anne WhitneyAnd for that thou art Beauty, and thy name... - Anne WhitneyCheerfulness Taught By Reason - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningAdequacy - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningConsolation - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningStoop low, dear Night, a little star-breeze wakes - Anne WhitneyOn The Sea - John KeatsWritten In The Cottage Where Burns Was Born - John KeatsWritten On The Day That Mr. Leigh Hunt Left Prison - John KeatsThree Flowers - Thomas Bailey AldrichPerplexed Music - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningPain In Pleasure - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningAddressed To The Same - John KeatsThou seem'st to solve the eternal unity... - Anne WhitneyI know this spirit bridges unknown space... - Anne WhitneyTo George Sand: A Desire - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTO G. A. W. - John KeatsDark rolling clouds in wild confusion driven... - Caroline Bowles SoutheyWork (What are we set on earth for? ...) - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Meaning Of The Look - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningO solitude! if I must with thee dwell, - John KeatsFrom all these mounds, though day blows fresh and warm, - Anne WhitneyOn Fame (Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy ...). - John KeatsTears - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOn The Grasshopper And Cricket - John KeatsTo one who has been long in city pent, ... - John KeatsKeen Fitful Gusts Are Whispering Here And There - John KeatsKeats's Last Sonnet - John KeatsInsufficiency - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOn Receiving A Gift - Thomas HoodThe Same (Might we make quest ...) - Anne WhitneyOn Leigh Hunt's Poem, The Story Of Rimini. - John KeatsExaggeration - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningAfter dark vapors have oppress'd our plains ... - John KeatsTo A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown. - John KeatsLargess from seven-fold heavens, I pray, descend... - Anne WhitneyThe world is with me, and its many cares... - Thomas HoodWhy did I laugh to-night? - John KeatsOn Sitting Down To Read King Lear Once Again. - John KeatsBereavement - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningAlas! and yesternight I woke in terror, - Anne WhitneyIrreparableness - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Passion Flower - Anne WhitneyTo An Enthusiast - Thomas HoodOn Seeing The Elgin Marbles - John KeatsI cry your mercy -- pity -- love -- ay, love ... - John KeatsDiscontent - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningFor The Fourteenth Of February - Thomas HoodHow many bards gild the lapses of time! - John KeatsOn Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour - John KeatsTo The Spirit - Anne WhitneyIt is not death, that sometime in a sigh... - Thomas HoodThe Two Sayings - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo The Same - Anne WhitneyRead me a lesson, Muse, and speak it loud - John KeatsAddressed To Haydon - John KeatsFuturity - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningSubstitution - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningAnswer To A Sonnet Ending Thus: -- - John KeatsLear - Thomas HoodThe Look - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningNo slight caprice rules thee. -- Who sounds one note... - Anne WhitneyI dreamed an angel, Angel twice, through death... - Anne WhitneyTo J. H. Reynolds - John KeatsOh! how I love, on a fair summer's eve, ... - John KeatsO night, a terrible dismay still lurks... - Anne WhitneyO fair mistrust of earth's more solid shows... - Anne WhitneyIn the still hours, a stiller strength was born - Anne WhitneyOf better fortune coming, then, talk not... - Anne WhitneyC. L'E. - Anne Whitney