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 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 
 
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 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 
 
 (<!) 
 
I 
 
 ODE TO PSYCHE 
 
 O GODDESS ! hear thefe tunelefs numbers, wrung 
 By fweet enforcement and remembrance dear, 
 And pardon that thy fecrets fhould be fung, 
 
 Even into thine own foft-conched ear : 
 Surely I dreamt to-day, or did I fee 
 
 The winged Pfyche with awakened eyes ? 
 I wanderM in a foreft thoughtleflly, 
 
 And, on the fudden, fainting with furprife. 
 Saw two fair creatures, couched fide by fide, 
 
 In deepeft grafs, beneath the whifpering roof 
 
 Of leaves and trembled bloflbms, where there ran 
 A brooklet, fcarce efpied : 
 ^Mid hufh'd, cool-rooted flowers fragrant-eyed. 
 
 Blue, filver-white, and budded Tyrian, 
 They lay calm-breathing on the bedded grafs ; 
 
 Their arms embraced, and their pinions too j 
 
 (7) 
 
Their lips touch'd not, but had not bade adieu. 
 As if disjoined by foft-handed (lumber, 
 And ready ftill paft kifles to outnumber 
 At tender eye-dawn of aurorean love : 
 
 The winged boy I knew ; 
 But who waft thou, O happy, happy dove ? 
 His Pfyche true ! 
 
 O lateft-born and lovelieft vifion far 
 
 Of all Olympus' faded hierarchy ! 
 Fairer than Phoebe's fapphire-region'd ftar. 
 
 Or Vefper, amorous glow-worm of the Iky ^ 
 Fairer than thefe, though temple thou haft none. 
 
 Nor altar heap'd with flowers ; 
 Nor Virgin-choir to make delicious moan 
 
 Vpon the midnight hours ; 
 No voice, no lute, no pipe, no incenfe fweet 
 
 From chain-fwung cenfer teeming j 
 No fhrine, no grove, no oracle, no heat 
 
 Of pale-mouth'd prophet dreaming. 
 O brighteft ! though too late for antique vows, 
 
 Too, too late for the fond believing lyre, 
 When holy were the haunted fbreft boughs. 
 
 Holy the air, the water, and the fire ; 
 
 (8) 
 
Yet even in thefe days fo far retired 
 
 From happy pieties, thy lucent fans. 
 
 Fluttering among the faint Olympians, 
 1 fee, and fmg, by my own eyes infpired. 
 
 So let me be thy choir, and make a moan 
 Vpon the midnight hours ; 
 Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incenfe fweet 
 
 From fwinged cenfer teeming : 
 Thy flirine, thy grove, thy oracle, thy heat 
 
 Of pale-mouth'd prophet dreaming. 
 
 Yes, I will be thy prieft, and build a fane 
 
 In fome untrodden region of my mind. 
 Where branched thoughts, new-grown with pleafant pain, 
 
 Inftead of pines Ihall murmur in the wind : 
 Far, far around fhall thofe dark-clufter'd trees 
 
 Fledge the wild-ridged mountains fteep by fteep : 
 And there by zephyrs, ftreams, and birds, and bees, 
 
 The mofs-lain Dryads fhall be luU'd to fleep ; 
 And in the midfl of this wide quietnefs 
 A rofy fanduary will I drefs 
 With the wreathed trellis of a working brain, 
 
 With buds, and bells, and flars without a name. 
 With all the gardener Fancy e'er could feign, 
 
 (?) •. 
 
Who breeding flowers, will never breed the fame 
 And there fliall be for thee all foft delight 
 
 That fliadowy thought can win, 
 A bright torch, and a cafement ope at night. 
 
 To let the warm Love in ! 
 
 (lo) 
 
ODE ON A GRECIAN VRN 
 
 THOV ftill unravilh'd bride of quietnefs. 
 Thou fofter-child of Silence and flow Time, 
 Sylvan hiftorian, who canft thus exprefs 
 
 A flowery tale more fweetly than our rhyme : 
 What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy fliape 
 Of deities or mortals, or of both, 
 
 In Tempe or the dales of Arcady ? 
 What men or gods are thefe ? What maidens loth ? 
 What mad purfuit ? What fliruggle to efcape ? 
 
 What pipes and timbrels ? What wild ecfl:afy ? 
 
 Heard melodies are fweet, but thofe unheard 
 Are fweeter; therefore, ye foft pipes, play onj 
 
 Not to the fenfual ear, but, more endear'd. 
 Pipe to the fpirit ditties of no tone : 
 
 (") 
 
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canft not leave 
 Thy fong, nor ever can thofe trees be bare • 
 Bold Lover, never, never canft thou kifs, 
 Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve ; 
 She cannot fade, though thou haft not thy blifs. 
 For ever wilt thou love, and fhe be fair ! 
 
 Ah, happy, happy boughs ! that cannot flied 
 
 Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu j 
 And, happy melodift, unwearied, 
 
 For ever piping fongs for ever new ; 
 More happy love ! more happy, happy love ! 
 
 For ever warm and ftill to be enjoy 'd. 
 For ever panting and for ever young ; 
 All breathing human paflion far above, 
 
 That leaves a heart high-forrowful and cloy'd, 
 A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. 
 
 Who are thefe coming to the facrifice ? 
 
 To what green altar, O myfterious prieft, 
 Lead'ft thou that heifer lowing at the Ikies, 
 
 And all her filken flanks with garlands dreft ? 
 What little town by river or fea-fliore. 
 
 Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, 
 
 (IX) 
 
r 
 
 Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn ? 
 And, little town, thy ftreets for evermore 
 Will filent be ; and not a foul to tell 
 Why thou art defolate, can e'er return. 
 
 O Attic fhape ! Fair attitude ! with brede 
 
 Of marble men and maidens overwrought. 
 With foreft branches and the trodden weed ; 
 
 Thou, filent form ! doft teafe us out of thought 
 As doth eternity : Cold Paftoral ! 
 
 When old age fliall this generation wafte. 
 Thou flialt remain, in midft of other woe 
 Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou fay'ft, 
 
 " Beauty is truth, truth beauty, " — that is all 
 Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know. 
 
 (13) 
 
ODE ON MELANCHOLY 
 
 NO, no ! go not to Lethe, neither twift 
 WolPs-bane, tight-rooted, for its poifonous wine ; 
 Nor fuffer thy pale forehead to be kiflM 
 
 By nightfhade, ruby grape of Proferpine -y 
 Make not your rofary of yew-berries. 
 
 Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be 
 Your mournful Pfyche, nor the downy owl 
 A partner in your forrow's myfteries ; 
 
 For fliade to fliade will come too drowfily, 
 And drown the wakeful anguifh of the foul. 
 
 But when the melancholy fit fliall fall 
 Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud. 
 
 That fofters the droop-headed flowers all. 
 And hides the green hill in an April fhroud j 
 
 (1+) 
 
Then glut thy forrow on a morning rofe, 
 Or on the rainbow of the fait fand-wave, 
 Or on the wealth of globed peonies ; 
 Or if thy miftrefs fome rich anger fliows, 
 Emprifon her foft hand, and let her rave, 
 And feed deep, deep upon her peerlefs eyes. 
 
 She dwells with Beauty — Beauty that muft die ; 
 
 And Joy, whofe hand is ever at his lips 
 Bidding adieu ; and aching Pleafure nigh. 
 
 Turning to poifon while the bee-mouth fips : 
 Ay, in the very temple of Delight 
 
 Veil'd Melancholy has her fovran flirine, 
 
 Though feen of none fave him whofe ftrenuous tongue 
 
 Can burft Joy's grape againft his palate fine • 
 His foul fhall tafte the fadnefs of her might, 
 And be among her cloudy trophies hung. 
 
 Cy) 
 
FRAGMENT OF AN ODE TO MAIA WRITTEN ON 
 MAY-DAY: 1818. 
 
 MOTHER of Hermes! and ftill youthful Maia! 
 May I fing to thee 
 As thou waft hymned on the fliores of Baias ? 
 
 Or may I woo thee 
 In earlier Sicilian ? or thy fmiles 
 Seek, as they once were fought in Grecian ifles. 
 By bards who died content on pleafant fward. 
 
 Leaving great verfe unto a little clan ? 
 O give me their old vigour, and unheard 
 Save of the quiet Primrofe, and the fpan 
 Of heaven and few ears. 
 Rounded by thee, my fong fhould die away 
 
 Content as theirs. 
 Rich in the fimple worfliip of a day. 
 
 4 
 
 I 
 
 (Id) 
 
ODE ON INDOLENCE 
 
 "THEY TOIL NOt, NEITHER DO THEY SPIN** 
 
 ONE morn before me were three figures feen. 
 With bowed necks, and joined hands, fide-faced; 
 And one behind the other ftepp'd ferene. 
 
 In placid fandals, and in white robes graced ; 
 They paff'd, like figures on a marble urn. 
 When fhifted round to fee the other fide ; 
 They came again ; as when the urn once more 
 Is fhifted round, the firft feen fhades return ; 
 And they were ftrange to me, as may betide 
 With vafes, to one deep in Phidian lore. 
 
 How is it. Shadows ! that I knew ye not ? 
 
 How came ye muffled in fo hufh a mafk ? 
 Was it a filent deep-difguifed plot 
 
 To ileal away, and leave without a talk 
 My idle days ? Ripe was the drowfy hour ; 
 
 The blifsfiil cloud of fummer-indolence 
 
 ('7) 
 
BenumbM my eyes j my pulfe grew lefs and lefs 5 
 Pain had no fting, and pleafure's wreath no flower : 
 O, why did ye not melt, and leave my fenfe 
 Vnhaunted quite of all but — nothingnefs ? 
 
 A third time paff'd they by, and, paffing, turn'd 
 
 Each one the face a moment whiles to me ; 
 Then faded, and to follow them I burn'd 
 
 And ach'd for wings, becaufe I knew the three • 
 The firft was a fair Maid, and Love her name j 
 
 The fecond was Ambition, pale of cheek. 
 And ever watchful with fatigued eye ; 
 The laft, whom I love more, the more of blame 
 
 Is heap'd upon her, maiden moft unmeek, — 
 I knew to be my demon Poefy. 
 
 They faded, and, forfooth ! I wanted wings : 
 O folly ! What is Love ? and where is it ? 
 
 And for that poor Ambition ! it fprings 
 From a man's little heart's fliort fever-fit • 
 
 For Poefy ! — no, — (he has not a joy, — 
 
 At leaft for me, — fo fweet as drowfy noons. 
 And evenings fteep'd in honied indolence 5 
 
 O, for an age fo flielter'd from annoy, 
 
 (18) 
 
 V .1 
 
That I may never know how change the moons. 
 Or hear the voice of bufy common-fenfe ! 
 
 And once more came they by; — alas! wherefore? 
 
 My fleep had been embroidered with dim dreams • 
 My foul had been a lawn befprinkled o'er 
 
 With flowers, and flirring (hades, and baffled beams 
 The morn was clouded, but no fhower fell, 
 
 Tho' in her lids hung the fweet tears of May ; 
 The open cafement preff'd a new-leaved vine. 
 
 Let in the budding warmth and throftle's lay; 
 O Shadows ! 'twas a time to bid farewell ! 
 
 Vpon your Ikirts had fallen no tears of mine. 
 
 So, ye three Ghofts, adieu ! Ye cannot raife 
 
 My head cool-bedded in the flowery grafs ; 
 For I would not be dieted with praife, 
 
 A pet-lamb in a fentimental farce ! 
 Fade foftly from my eyes, and be once more 
 
 In mafque-like figures on the dreamy urn ; 
 Farewell ! I yet have vifions for the night. 
 And for the day faint vifions there is ftore ; 
 
 Vanifli, ye Phantoms ! from my idle fpright. 
 
 Into the clouds, and never more return i 
 
ODE TO PAN j 
 
 FROM "ENDYMIOn" 
 
 OTHOV5 whoie mighty palace roof doth hang 
 From jagged trunks, and overfliadoweth 
 
 Eternal whifpers, glooms, the birth, life, death j 
 
 Of unfeen flowers in heavy peacefiilnefs; I 
 
 Who lov'ft to fee the hamadryads drefs | 
 
 Their ruffled locks where meeting hazels darken ; 1 
 
 And through whole folemn hours doft fit, and hearken ' 
 The dreary melody of bedded reeds — 
 
 In defblate places, where dank moifture breeds ' 
 
 The pipy hemlock to ftrange overgrowth • | 
 
 Bethinking thee, how melancholy loth I 
 
 Thou waft to lofe fair Syrinx — do thou now, \ 
 
 By thy love's milky brow ! 1 
 
 By all the trembling mazes that flie ran, i 
 
 Hear us, great Pan ! | 
 
 (10) \ 
 
O thou, for whofe foul-foothing quiet, turtles 
 Paflion their voices cooingly 'mong myrtles, 
 What time thou wandereft at eventide 
 Through funny meadows, that outlkirt the fide 
 Of thine enmofTed realms : O thou, to whom 
 Broad leaved fig trees even now foredoom 
 Their ripen'd fruitage ; yellow girted bees 
 Their golden honeycombs ^ our village leas 
 Their fairefl-bloflbm'd beans and poppied corn ; 
 The chuckling linnet its five young unborn. 
 To fing for thee ; low creeping ftrawberries 
 Their fummer coolnefs • pent up butterflies 
 Their freckled wings ; yea, the frefli budding year 
 All its completions — be quickly near. 
 By every wind that nods the mountain pine, 
 O forefter divine ! 
 
 Thou, to whom every fawn and fatyr flies 
 For willing fervice • whether to furprife 
 The fquatted hare while in half fleeping fit ; 
 Or upward ragged precipices flit 
 To fave poor lambkins from the eagle's maw • 
 Or by myfterious enticement draw 
 Bewildered fliepherds to their path again j 
 
Or to tread breathlefs round the frothy main. 
 
 And gather up all fancifiilleft fliells | 
 
 For thee to tumble into Naiads' cells, | 
 
 And, being hidden, laugh at their out-peeping ; | 
 
 Or to delight thee with fantaftic leaping. 
 
 The while they pelt each other on the crown J 
 
 With filvery oak apples, and fir cones brown — 
 
 By all the echoes that about thee ring. 
 
 Hear us, O fatyr king ! j 
 
 O Hearkener to the loud clapping fhears, | 
 
 While ever and anon to his fhorn peers l| 
 
 A ram goes bleating : Winder of the horn, | 
 
 When fhouted wild-boars routing tender corn | 
 
 Anger our huntsman : Breather round our farms, j 
 
 To keep off mildews, and all weather harms : >| 
 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<f) 
 
Crown'd with green leaves, and foces all on flame ; 
 All madly dancing through the pleaFant valley, 
 
 To fcare thee, Melancholy ! 
 O then, O then, thou waft a fimple name I 
 And I forgot thee, as the berried holly 
 By fhepherds is forgotten, when, in June, 
 Tall chefnuts keep away the fun and moon : — 
 
 I rufli'd into the folly! 
 
 Within his car, aloft, young Bacchus ftood. 
 Trifling his ivy-dart, in dancing mood. 
 
 With (idelong laughing ; 
 And little rills of crimfon wine imbru'd 
 His plump white arms, and Ihoulders, enough white 
 
 For Venus' pearly bite : 
 And near him rode Silenus on his afs. 
 Pelted with flowers as he on did pafs 
 
 Tipfily quaffing. 
 
 Whence came ye, merry Damfels ! whence came ye! 
 So many, and fo many, and fuch glee ? 
 Why have ye left your bowers defolate, 
 Your lutes, and gentler fate ! 
 'We follow Bacchus! Bacchus on the wing, 
 
 (^7) 
 
A conquering ! 
 Bacchus, young Bacchus ! good or ill betide. 
 We dance before him thorough kingdoms wide :— 
 Come hither, lady fair, and joined be 
 
 To our wild minftreify ! ' 
 
 Whence came ye, jolly Satyrs ! whence came ye ! 
 So many, and fo many, and fuch glee ? 
 Why have ye left your foreft haunts, why left 
 
 Your nuts in oak-tree cleft ? — 
 'For wine, for wine we left our kernel tree ; 
 For wine we left our heath, and yellow brooms. 
 
 And cold muihrooms ; 
 For wine we follow Bacchus through the earth ; 
 Great God of breathlefs cups and chirping mirth !— 
 Come hither, lady fair, and joined be 
 
 To our mad minftreify !' 
 
 Over wide ftreams and mountains great we went. 
 And, fave when Bacchus kept his ivy tent. 
 Onward the tiger and the leopard pants. 
 
 With Afian elephants : 
 Onward thefe myriads — with fong and dance, 
 With zebras ftriped, and fleek Arabians' prance, 
 
 (*8) 
 
Web-footcd alligators, crocodiles, 
 Bearing upon their fcaly backs, in files. 
 Plump infent laughers mimicking the coil 
 Of feamen, and ftout galley-rowers' toil : 
 With toying oars and filken fails they glide. 
 Nor care for wind and tide. 
 
 Mounted on panthers' furs and lions' manes. 
 From rear to van they fcour about the plains j 
 A three days' journey in a moment done : 
 And always, at the rifing of the fun. 
 About the wilds they hunt with fpear and horn, 
 On fpleenful unicorn. 
 
 I faw Ofirian Egypt kneel adown 
 
 Before the vine-wreath crown ! 
 I faw parch'd Abyflinia roufe and ling 
 
 To the filver cymbals' ring ! 
 I faw the whelming vintage hotly pierce 
 
 Old Tartary the fierce ! 
 The kings of Inde their jewel-fceptres vail. 
 And from their treafures fcatter pearled hail • 
 Great Brahma from his myftic heaven groans. 
 
 And all his priefthood moans j 
 
Before young Bacchus' eye-wink turning pale. 
 Into thefe regions came I following him. 
 Sick hearted, weary — fo I took a whim 
 To ftray alone into thefe forefts drear 
 
 Alone, without a peer : 
 And I have told thee all thou mayeft hear. 
 
 Young ftranger ! 
 
 Fve been a ranger 
 In fearch of pleafure throughout every clime : 
 
 Alas, 'tis not for me ! 
 
 Bewitch'd I fure muft be. 
 To lofe in grieving all my maiden prime. 
 
 Come then. Sorrow ! 
 
 Sweeteft Sorrow ! 
 Like an own babe I nurfe thee on my breaft : 
 
 I thought to leave thee 
 
 And deceive thee, 
 But now of all the world I love thee beft. 
 
 There is not one. 
 No, no, not one 
 But thee to comfort a poor lonely maid ; 
 
 (30) 
 
Thou art her mother, 
 And her brother, 
 Her playmate, and her wooer in the fliade. 
 
 O ijjhat a figk /he gave in fnifljing, 
 And look, quite dead to every 'worldly thing ! 
 Endymion could not j^eak, but gazed on her ; 
 And It Hened to the inind that no-vj did Jiir 
 About the crimed oaks full drearily, 
 Tet "jjith as fweet a foftnefs as might be 
 Remember d fiom its velvet jummer Jong. 
 
 (5> 
 
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 
 

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