H i|^_ipu >I|UJ HJiH^Ji 1 11 II \ — ' ' : i " ■ -- I nu^K^ I I I II ^.lJ__il.. t. '^^1V^ ¥mmmm s W.rr^ ■^■. ^^- W< k ^'^ii«^%^i»tsi ^^ll ;wl^;„;-,w-rf|^ ""¥>: ''H^^'" fm r^ ?y *• fW ,1^'X^s P ^\>; k^jvi^V\: y ^v ^^^%. ;js«v~" " m,^-: . W¥^^ 'o^i^ University of California • Berkeley From the Library of Charles Erskine Scott Wood and his Wife Sara Bard Field Given in Memory of JAMES R.CALDWELL y^ r^ t/ ;V/ f 5. (f&-<«--*^-e^ r^ tj. c.^-^^ , Beauty is Truth '^^-^w^ cU^^ij^ u^Ur iW,.^-, ^ c..,..^, __ /^«-J^ !^ |i Odes Sonnets ^ Lyrics of JOHN KEATS t iff !^ DANIEL : OXFORD : 1895; ^ % I THIS SeleSiion is printed as a Memorial of the Hundredth Anniverfary of the birth of Keats. The ohjeEi 'whido the Printer had in 'view was to get together the very he ft of Keats' Jborter pieces. In doing this he has been guided by Mr Robert Bridges' ^Critical Ejfay^ [Lavjrence & BuUen: 1895' : pp. 54. — 61. "] The Text is made by collation of the lateH editions. The version of ^La Belle Dame' given by Vrofejfor Palgrave is added for reafons fet out in the Note prefixed to it. The Portrait of the Foet is the reproduBion of a beautiful draining formerly in the pojjejjion of Canon Dixon, and lately^ given by him to 'Mrs Furneaux. It is the vjork of her father Jofeph Severn, the devoted friend of Keats. It has never until now been copied. From the great rejemblance to the Mask taken before the Foet became ferioufly ill it muH be a truBworthy like- nefs. The reproduBion of the Portrait is by Mr Hollyer of Fern- broke Square, 250 COPIES PRINTEDj^ THIS IS NO. 2 /y Odes Sonnets ^ Lyrics %. ^ TO AVTVMN SEASON of mills and mellow fmitfulnefs! Clofe bofom-friend of the maturing fun j Confpiring with him how to load and blefs With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run -, To bend with apples the mofl'd cottage trees. And fill all fruit with ripenefs to the core ; To fwell the gourd, and plump the hazel (hells With a fweet kernel ; to fet budding more. And ftill more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never ceafe, For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells. Who hath not feen thee oft amid thy ilore ? Sometimes whoever feeks abroad may find Thee fitting carelefs on a granary floor. Thy hair foft-lifted by the winnowing wind ; (I) Or on a half-reap'd furrow found afleep, Drowfed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next fwath and all its twined flowers ; And fometime like a gleaner thou doft keep Steady thy laden head acrofs a brook • Or by a cider-prefs, with patient look. Thou watcheft the laft oozings, hours by hours. Where are the fongs of Spring ? Ay, where are they ? Think not of them, thou haft thy mufic too. While barred clouds bloom the foft-dying day. And touch the ftubble-plains with rofy hue • Then in a wailful choir the fmall gnats mourn Among the river fallows, borne aloft Or fmking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn ; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble foft The redbreaft whiftles from a garden-croft, And gathering fwallows twitter in the Ikies. (i) ODE TO A NIGHTINGALE TV yr Y heart aches, and a drowfy numbnefs pains -*-'^-*- My fenfe, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied fome dull opiate to the drains One minute paft, and Lethe-wards had funk : ^Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thy happinefs, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees. In fome melodious plot Of beechen green and fhadows numberlefs, Singeft of fummer in full-throated eafe. O for a draught of vintage, that hath been Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth, Tafting of Flora and the country-green. Dance, and Provencal fong, and fun-burnt mirth ! O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the bluflifiil Hippocrene, (3) With beaded bubbles winking at the brim. And purple-ftained mouth ; That I might drink, and leave the world unfeen, And with thee fade away into the foreft dim : Fade far away, difTolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves haft never known, The wearinefs, the fever, and the fret Here, where men fit and hear each other groan ; Where paify fhakes a few, fad, laft grey hairs. Where youth grows pale, and fpedre-thin, and dies j Where but to think is to be full of forrow And leaden-eyed defpairs • Where beauty cannot keep her luftrous eyes. Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow. Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee. Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards. But on the viewlefs wings of Poefy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards : Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, ClufterM around by all her ftarry Fays ; But here there is no light, (+) Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mofly ways. ; I I cannot lee what flowers are at my feet. Nor what foft incenfe hangs upon the boughs. But, in embalmed darknefs, guefs each fweet ; Wherewith the feafonable month endows The grafs, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild ; ? White hawthorn, and the paftoral eglantine ; 1 Faft-fading violets cover'd up in leaves ^ ' And mid-May's eldefl: child, \ The coming mulk-rofe, full of dewy wine, i The murmurous haunt of flies on fummer eves. Darkling I liflien ; and for many a time I have been half in love with eafeful Death, \ Call'd him fbft names in many a mufed rhyme, ^ To take into the air my quiet breath ; : Now more than ever feems it rich to die, ^ i To ceafe upon the midnight with no pain. While thou art pouring forth thy foul abroad In flich an ecftacy ! i Still wouldfl: thou fing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a fod. (r) Thou waft not born for death, immortal Bird ! \ No hungry generations tread thee down ; ? The voice I hear this paffing night was heard > In ancient days by emperor and clown : J Perhaps the felf-fame fong that found a path ^ Through the fad heart of Ruth, when, (ick for home, j She ftood in tears amid the alien corn ; I The fame that oft-times hath j Charm'd magic cafements, opening on the foam | Of perilous feas, in faery lands forlorn. I Forlorn ! the very word is like a bell i To toll me back from thee to my fole felf ! I Adieu ! the fancy cannot cheat fo well As ftie is famed to do, deceiving elf^ a Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades \ Paft the near meadows, over the flill ftream, 1 Vp the hill-fide ; and now 'tis buried deep | In the next valley-glades : ^ Was it a vifion, or a waking dream ? i Fled is that mufic ! — do I wake or fleep ? j (| Strange miniftrant of undefcribed founds. That come a fwooning over hollow grounds. And wither drearily on barren moors : j Dread opener of the myfterious doors I Leading to univerfal knowledge — fee, | Great fbn of Dryope, | The many that are come to pay their vows | With leaves about their brows ! | Be ftill the unimaginable lodge For folitary thinkings ; fuch as dodge Conception to the very bourne of heaven. Then leave the naked brain : be ftill the leaven. That fpreading in this dull and clodded earth Gives it a touch ethereal — a new birth : Be ft ill a fymbol of immenfity ; A firmament refleded in a fea ; An element filling the fpace between j An unknown — but no more : we humbly fcreen With uplift hands our foreheads, lowly bending, And giving out a fhout moft heaven rending. Conjure thee to receive our humble Paean, Vpon thy Mount Lycean ! Even luhile they brought the burden to a clofe, A Jhout from the 'whole multitude arofe^ That lingered in the air like dying rolls Of abrupt thundery ivhen Ionian fhoals Of dolphins bob their nofes through the brine. (p-i) o ODE TO SORROW | FROM "ENDYMIOn" ^ Sorrow, J Why doft borrow The natural hue of health, from vermeil lips ? — ^ To give maiden bluflies To the white rofe buflies ? i Or is it thy dewy hand the daify tips ? i O Sorrow, | Why doft borrow The luftrous paffion from a falcon-eye ? — ^ To give the glow-worm light ? ^ Or, on a moonlefs night, J To tinge, on fyren ftiores, the fait fea-fpry ? i (H) 1 O Sorrow, Why doft borrow The mellow ditties from a mourning tongue ? — To give at evening pale Vnto the nightingale. That thou mayft liften the cold dews among ? Sorrow, Why doft borrow Heart's lightnefs from the merriment of May ? — A lover would not tread A cowllip on the head. Though he fliould dance from eve till peep of day- Nor any drooping flower Held facred for thy bower. Wherever he may fport himfelf and play. To Sorrow 1 bade good-m.orrow. And thought to leave her far away behind ; But cheerly, cheerly. She loves me dearly ; She is fo conftant to me and fo kind : I would deceive her And fo leave her. But ah 1 ftie is fo conftant and fo kind. Beneath my palm trees, by the river fide, I fat a weeping : in the whole world wide There was no one to alk me why I wept, — And fo I kept Brimming the water-lilly cups with tears Cold as my fears. Beneath my palm trees, by the river fide, I fat a weeping : what enamour'd bride, Cheated by fhadowy wooer from the clouds. But hides and fhrouds Beneath dark palm trees by a river fide ? And as I fat, over the light blue hills There came a noife of revellers : the rills Into the wide ftream came of purple hue — 'Twas Bacchus and his crew ! The earneft trumpet fpake, and filver thrills From killing cymbals made a merry din — 'Twas Bacchus and his kin ! Like to a moving vintage down they came, (x La belle dame sans merci AH, what can ail thee, wretched wight^ Alone and palely loitering • The fedge is withered from the lake, And no birds fing. Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight. So haggard and fo woe-begone ? The fquirrel's granary is full. And the harveft's done. I fee a lilly on thy brow. With anguiih moift and fever dew ; And on thy cheek a fading rofe Faft withereth too. I met a lady in the meads Full beautiful, a faery's child ; Her hair was long, her foot was light. And her eyes were wild. (3i) I fet her on my pacing fteed. And nothing elfe faw all day long • For fideways would ihe lean, and fing A faery's fong. I made a garland for her head. And bracelets too, and fragrant zone^ She look'd at me as Ihe did love, And made fweet moan. She found me roots of relifti fweet, And honey wild, and manna dew ; And fure in language ftrange fhe faid, I love thee true. She took me to her elfin grot. And there fhe gaz'd and fighed deep. And there I fhut her wild fad eyes — So kifl'd to deep. And there we flumber'd on the mofs. And there I dream'd, ah woe betide. The lateft dream I ever dream'd On the cold hill fide. (33) I faw pale kings, and princes too. Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; Who cry'd — TLa belle Dame fa?is merci Hath thee in thrall I I law their ftarv'd lips in the gloom With horrid warning gaped wide. And I awoke, and found me here On the cold hill fide. And this is why 1 fojourn here Alone and palely loitering, Though the fedge is withered from the lake, And no birds fing. (3+) SONG I HAD a dove and the fwect dove died • And 1 have thought it died of grieving : O, what could it grieve for ? Its feet were tied, With a filken thread of my own hand's weaving • Sweet little red feet! why fhould you die — Why fhould you leave me, fweet bird! why? You liv'd alone in the foreft-tree, Why, pretty thing ! would you not live with me ? I kifTed you oft and gave you white peas ; Why not live fweetly, as in the green trees ? (35) STANZAS .:i • -i IN a drear-nighted December, '-4 Too happy, happy tree, ] Thy branches ne'er remember ] Their green felicity : ] The north cannot undo them, j With a ileety whiftle through them ^ ] Nor frozen thawings glue them From budding at the prime. I i In a drear-nighted December, 5 Too happy, happy brook, | Thy bubblings ne'er remember J Apollo's fummer look ; But with a fweet forgetting, I They ftay their cryftal fretting. Never, never petting About the frozen time. | ^^ (3<0 Ah ! would 'twere fo with many A gentle girl and boy ! But were there ever any Writh'd not at pafTed joy ? To know the change and feel it, When there is none to heal it, Nor numbed fenfe to fteal it, Was never faid in rhyme. (37) FANCY EVER let the Fancy roam, Pleafure never is at home : At a touch fweet Pleafure melteth. Like to bubbles when rain pelteth • Then let winged Fancy wander Through the thought ftill fpread beyond her Open wide the mind's cage-door, She'll dart forth, and cloudward foar. O fweet Fancy ! let her loofe ; Summer's joys are fpoilt by ufe, And the enjoying of the Sp^'ing Fades as does its bloflbming j Autumn's red-lipp'd fruitage too, Blufhing through the mift and dew. Cloys with tailing : What do then ? Sit thee by the ingle, when The fear faggot blazes bright, Spirit of a winter's night • (38) When the foundlefs earth is muffled. And the caked fnow is fhuffled From the ploughboy's heavy fhoon • When the Night doth meet the Noon In a dark confpiracy To banifli Even from her Iky. Sit thee there, and fend abroad, With a mind felf^overaw'd. Fancy, high-commiflion'd : — fend her ! She has vaflals to attend her : She will bring, in fpite of froft. Beauties that the earth hath loft ^ She will bring thee, all together. All delights of fummer weather ^ All the buds and bells of May, From dewy fward or thorny fpray • All the heaped Autumn's wealth, With a ftill, myfterious ftealth : She will mix thefe pleafures up Like three fit wines in a cup. And thou fhalt quaff it : — thou ihalt hear Diftant harveft-carols clear • Ruftle of the reaped corn; (39) Sweet birds antheming the morn i And, in the fame moment — hark I 'Tis the early April lark. Or the rooks, with bufy caw. Foraging for flicks and ftraw. Thou fhaltj at one glance, behold The daify and the marigold ; White-plum'd lillies, and the firft Hedge-grown primrofe that hath burft ; Shaded hyacinth, alway Sapphire queen of the mid-May • And every leaf, and every flower Pearled with the felf-fame fliower. Thou fhalt fee the field-moufe peep Meagre from its celled fleep ; And the fnake all winter-thin Call on funny bank its Ikin ; Freckled nefl-eggs thou fhalt fee Hatching in the hawthorn-tree. When the hen-bird's wing doth refl Quiet on her mofly nefl ; Then the hurry and alarm When the bee-hive cafls its fwarm • (40) Acorns ripe down-pattering. While the autumn breezes fing. Oh, fweet Fancy ! let her loose ; Every thing is fpoilt by ufe : Where's the cheek that doth not fade, Too much gazM at ? Where's the maid Whofe lip mature is ever new ? Where's the eye, however blue. Doth not weary ? Where *s the face One would meet in every place ? Where's the voice, however foft. One would hear fo very oft ? At a touch fweet Pleafure melteth Like to bubbles when rain pelteth. Let, then, winged Fancy find Thee a miftrefs to thy mind : Dulcet-ey'd as Ceres' daughter. Ere the God of Torment taught her How to frown and how to chide ; With a waift and with a fide White as Hebe's, when her zone Slipt its golden clasp, and down (+1) Fell the kirtle to her feet, 1 While fhe held the goblet fweet, And Jove grew languid. — Break the mefh Of the Fancy's filken leafh; I Quickly break her prifbn-ftring j And fuch joys as thefe fhe'll bring. — j Let the winged Fancy roam, Pleafure never is at home. (+*) SONNETS ON FIRST LOOKING INTO CHAPMAN'S HOMER MVCH have I traveU'd in the realms of gold, And many goodly ftates and kingdoms feen • Round many weftern iflands have I been Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanfe had I been told That deep-brow'd Homer rul'd as his demefne ^ Yet did I never breathe its pure ferene Till I heard Chapman fpeak out loud and bold : Then felt I like fome watcher of the Ikies When a new planet fwims into his ken j Or like ftout Cortez when with eagle eyes He ftared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild furmife — Silent, upon a peak in Darien. (+r) To one who has been long in city pent, 'Tis very fweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven, — to breathe a prayer Full in the fmile of the blue firmament. Who is more happy, when, with heart's content. Fatigued he finks into fome pleafant lair Of wavy grafs, and reads a debonair And gentle tale of love and languifliment ? Returning home at evening, with an ear Catching the notes of Philomel, — an eye Watching the failing cloudlet's bright career. He mourns that day fo foon has glided by : E'en like the pafTage of an angel's tear That falls through the clear ether filently. (+^) i W HEN I have fears that I may ceafe to be Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain, :, Before high piled books, in charadry, Hold like rich garners the fiill ripenM grain ; I When I behold, upon the night's ftarr'd face, I Huge cloudy fymbols of a high romance, I And think that I may never live to trace J Their Ihadows, with the magic hand of chance ; i And when I feel, fair creature of an hour, f That I fhall never look upon thee more, I: Never have relifh in the faery power . Of unreflecting love ; — then on the fliore I Of the wide world I ftand alone, and think 4 Till love and fame to nothingnefs do fmk. (47) THE HVMAN SEASONS FOVR Seafons fill the meafure of the year ; There are four feafons in the mind of man : He has his lufty Spring, when fancy clear Takes in all beauty with an eafy fpan : He has his Summer, when luxurioufly Spring's honied cud of youthful thought he loves To ruminate, and by fuch dreaming nigh His neareft unto heaven : quiet coves His foul has in its Autumn, when his wings He furleth clofe ; contented fo to look On mills in idlenefs — to let fair things Pafs by unheeded as a threfliold brook. He has his Winter too of pale misfeature, Or elfe he would forego his mortal nature. (+8) ON A PICTVRE OF LEANDER COME hither all fweet maidens foberly, Down-looking aye, and with a chaftenM light. Hid in the fringes of your eyelids white, And meekly let your fair hands joined be. As if fo gentle that ye could not fee, Vntouch'd, a victim of your beauty bright^ Sinking away to his young fpirit's night,— Sinking bewilder'd 'mid the dreary fea : 'Tis young Leander toiling to his death ; Nigh fwooning, he doth purfe his weary lips For Hero's cheek, and smiles againfl her fmile. O horrid dream ! fee how his body dips Dead-heavy ; arms and flioulders gleam awhile He's gone ; up bubbles all his amorous breath ! (+9) TO SLEEP OSOFT embalmer of the ftill midnight. Shutting with careful fingers and benign. Our gloom-pleaPd eyes, embower'd from the lights Enfiladed in forgetfulnefs divine : O footheft Sleep ! if fo it pleafe thee, clofe, In midft of this thine hymn, my willing eyes, Or wait the amen, ere thy poppy throws Around my bed its lulling charities^ Then fave me, or the paiTed day will fliine Vpon my pillow, breeding many woes, — Save me from curious confcience, that ftill lords Its ftrength for darknefs, burrowing like a mole ; Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards. And feal the huflied caiket of my foul. (TO) TO FANNY I CRY your mercy — pity — love ! — aye, love ] Merciful love that tantalizes not, One- thought ed, never-wandering, guilelefs love, Vnmalk'd, and being feen — without a blot ! O ! let me have thee whole, — all — all — be mine ! That fliape, that fairnefs, that fweet minor zeft Of love, your kifs, — thofe hands, thofe eyes divine, That warm, white, lucent, million-pleafured breaft,- Yourfelf — your foul — in pity give me all, Withhold no atom's atom or I die, Or living on perhaps, your wretched thrall. Forget, in the mift of idle mifery, Life's purpofes, — the palate of my mind Lofmg its gufl, and my ambition blind ! (Ti) A DREAM AFTER READING DANTE'S EPISODE OF PAVLO AND FRANCESCA AS Hermes once took to his feathers light. When lulled Argus, baffled, fwoon'd and flept, So on a Delphic reed, my idle fpright So play'd, fo charm'd, fo conquer'd, fo bereft The dragon-world of all its hundred eyes • And, feeing it afleep, fo fled away — Not to pure Ida with its fnow-cold fkies. Nor unto Tempe where Jove griev'd a day ; But to that fecond circle of fad hell. Where 'mid the guft, the whirlwind, and the flaw Of rain and hail-ftones, lovers need not tell Their forrows. Pale were the fweet lips I faw. Pale were the lips I kifl'd, and fair the form I floated with, about that melancholy ftorm. (T^) THE day is gone, and all its fweets are gone ! Sweet voice, fweet lips, foft hand, and fofter breaft. Warm breath, light whifper, tender femi-tone. Bright eyes, accomplifh'd fliape, and lang'rous waift ! Faded the flower and all its budded charms. Faded the fight of beauty from my eyes. Faded the ftiape of beauty from my arms, Faded the voice, warmth, whitenefs, paradife — Vanifli'd unfeafonably at fhut of eve. When the duik holiday — or holinight Of fragrant-curtain'd love begins to weave The woof of darknefs thick, for hid delight ; But, as I've read love's miflal through to-day, He'll let me fleep, feeing I faft and pray. (Si) TO A LADY SEEN FOR A FEW MOMENTS AT VAVXHALL j I TIME'S fea hath been five years at its flow ebb, j Long hours have to and fro let creep the fand. Since I was tangled in thy beauty's web, \ And fhared by the ungloving of thine hand. And yet I never look on midnight Iky, J But I behold thine eyes' well memory'd light ; \ I cannot look upon the rofe's dye, \ But to thy cheek my foul doth take its flight. 1 cannot look on any budding flower, j But my fond ear, in fancy at thy lips ] And barkening for a love-found, doth devour ;1 Its fweets in the wrong fenfe : — Thou doft eclipfe ,\ Every delight with fwett remembering, i And grief unto my darling joys doft bring. ] (H) WRITTEN ON A BLANK PAGE IN SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS FACING *A LOVER'S COMPLAINT* BRIGHT ftar, would I were ftedfaft as thou art- Not in lone fplendour hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature's patient, fleeplefs Eremite, The moving waters at their prieftlike tafk Of pure ablution round earth's human fliores, Or gazing on the new foft-fallen maik Of fnow upon the mountains and the moors — No — yet ftill ftedfaft, ftill unchangeable, Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breaft. To feel for ever its foft fall and fwell. Awake for ever in a fweet unreft. Still, ftill to hear her tender-taken breath. And fo live ever — or elfe fwoon to death. (ry) 5 The foUoiiiing verfton of 'La. Belle Dame fans merci' is the text of Frofejfor Palgrave in the ' Golden Treafury\ and is the hefi knoiun^ and likely to be the moji admired. It is founded on the original MS. of Keats, luhich occurs in a letter to his brother dated April 285 18 ip. The verfion in the text^ page 32, if the form in luhich the poem appeared^ printed by Leigh Hunt in the ' Indicator ' for May lo, i8io ,• and the altera- tions are almoB certainly by Keats. Some of thefe Frofejfor Palgrave has refufed to admit , and I have reflored the original cheek for cheeks in the eleventh line. The hifory of Hype- rion is perhaps fuffcient juBification for this deliberate rejeBion of the poet's own revifon, and in the cafe of 'ha. Belle Dame' the careleffnejs of the original tranfcription {which may be found in Sidney Colvin'/ Letters of ]ohn Keats j page 250,) forbids its exaB reproduBion being accepted. (50 LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCl OWHAT can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering ? The fedge has withered from the lake. And no birds fing. what can ail thee, knight-at-arms ! So haggard and fo woe-begone ? The fquirrel's granary is full. And the harveft's done. 1 fee a lily on thy brow With anguifli moift and fever dew. And on thy cheek a fading rofe Faft withereth too. I met a lady in the meads. Full beautiful — a faery's child. Her hair was long, her foot was light. And her eyes were wild. (?7) She took me to her elfin grot, And there (he wept and fighed full fore. And there I fliut her wild wild eyes With kiffes four. And there flie lulled me afleep, And there I dream'd — Ah ! woe betide I The lateft dream I ever dream'd On the cold hill's fide. 1 made a garland for her head, i And bracelets too, and fragrant zone ; 1 She look'd at me as (he did love, 1 And made fweet moan. \ I fet her on my pacing Heed, ,J And nothing elfe faw all day long. For fidelong would fhe bend, and fing • \ A faery's fong. j ■ i She found me roots of relifli fweet, ^ And honey wild, and manna dew, | And fure in language ftrange flie faid — | * I love thee true. ' I (58) ] I faw pale kings, and princes too. Pale warriors, death-pale were they all ; They cried — La Belle Dame fatis Merci Hath thee in thrall I I faw their ftarved lips in the gloam, With horrid warning gaped wide. And I awoke and found me here. On the cold hill's fide. And this is why I fojourn here, Alone and palely loitering, Though the fedge is withered from the lake, And no birds fmg. (y?) € INDEX INDEX OF FIRST LINES Ab^ nvhat can ail thee^ vjretched *wight PAGE 3 a As Hermes once took to his feathers light ^x Bright fiary 'would I were Bedfafi as thou art j^^r Come hither all fweet maidens foberly 4.^ lEtver let the Fancy roam ^8 Four Seafons fill the meafure of the year 4fi I cry your mercy — pity — love I — aye^ love 5-1 I had a dove and the fweet dove died gy In a drear-night ed December ^6 Mother of Hermes! and fli II youthful Mai a 16 Much have I travelTd in the realms of gold 4,5 My heart aches ^ and a drowfy numbnejs pains 3 Noy no ! go not to Lethe, neither twiji 14. O Goddefsl hear thefe tunelefs number s^ nnrung ^ One morn before me "were three figures feen ly O foft embalmer of the ftill midnight 5^0 O Sorro'Ui a^ O Thou^ ivhofe mighty palace roof doth hang lo O what can ail thee^ knight- at- arms 57 Seafon of mijls and mellow fruitfulnefs i The day is gone, and all its fweets are gone ^ 3 Thou Bill unravifh' d bride of quietnefs II Timers fea hath been five years at its flow ehh f^ To one ^ho has been long in city pent ^6 When I have fears that I may ceafe to be 4.7 FINIS ^ f/1<^^30 ^^ ■S i^^. ' '4 f^^, 'fe* ^iw^^ ^] :\-^ VM^- -"^"^ M^^y^ ''^mW^^^L m -Si-r^ ■^■•»:^9 uilp j ^> W MiL^ '