Complete Poems and Selected Letters of John Keats
"I think I shall be among the English Poets after my death," John Keats soberly prophesied in a letter to his brother in 1818. Today he endures as the archetypal Romantic genius who explored the limits of the imagination and celebrated the pleasures of the senses but who suffered a tragic early death. Renowned poet and author Edward Hirsch writes in the Introduction to this volume, "We are made more human -- and more noble -- by reading Keats, for he is a hero of our jubilant, flawed, tragic...
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'I think I shall be among the English Poets after my death,' John Keats soberly prophesied in 1818 as he started writing the blankverse epic Hyperion. Today he endures as the archetypal Romantic genius who explored the limits of the imagination and celebrated the pleasures of the senses but suffered a tragic early death. Edmund Wilson counted him as 'one of the half dozen greatest English writers,' and T. S. Eliot has paid tribute to the Shakespearean quality of Keats's greatness. Indeed, his work has survived better than that of any of his contemporaries the devaluation of Romantic poetry that began early in this century. This Modern Library edition contains all of Keats's magnificent verse: 'Lamia,' 'Isabella,' and 'The Eve of St. Agnes'; his sonnets and odes; the allegorical romance Endymion; and the five-act poetic tragedy Otho the Great. Presented as well are the famous posthumous and fugitive poems, including the fragmentary 'The Eve of Saint Mark' and the great 'La Belle Dame sans Merci,' perhaps the most distinguished literary ballad in the language. 'No one else in English poetry, save Shakespeare, has in expression quite the fascinating felicity of Keats, his perception of loveliness,' said Matthew Arnold. 'In the faculty of naturalistic interpretation, in what we call natural magic, he ranks with Shakespeare.'
'Places of nestling green for Poets made.'\ Story of Rimini.\ I STOOD tip-toe upon a little hill,\ The air was cooling, and so very still,\ That the sweet buds which with a modest pride Pull droopingly, in slanting curve aside,\ Their scantly leav'd, and finely tapering stems,\ Had not yet lost those starry diadems Caught from the early sobbing of the morn.\ The clouds were pure and white as flocks new shorn,\ And fresh from the clear brook; sweetly they slept On the blue fields of heaven, and then there crept ———10\ A little noiseless noise among the leaves,\ Born of the very sigh that silence heaves:\ For not the faintest motion could be seen Of all the shades that slanted o'er the green.\ There was wide wand'ring for the greediest eye,\ To peer about upon variety;\ Far round the horizon's crystal air to skim,\ And trace the dwindled edgings of its brim;\ To picture out the quaint, and curious bending Of a fresh woodland alley, never ending; ———20\ Or by the bowery clefts, and leafy shelves,\ Guess where the jaunty streams refresh themselves.\ I gazed awhile, and felt as light, and free As though the fanning wings of Mercury Had play'd upon my heels: I was light-hearted,\ And many pleasures to my vision started;\ So I straightway began to pluck a posey Of luxuries bright, milky, soft and rosy.\ A bush of May flowers with the bees about them;\ Ah, sure no tasteful nook would be without them; ———30\ And let a lush laburnum oversweep them,\ And let long grass grow round the roots to keep them Moist, cool and green; and shade the violets,\ That they may bind the moss in leafy nets.\ A filbert hedge with wild briar overtwined,\ And clumps of woodbine taking the soft wind Upon their summer thrones; there too should be The frequent chequer of a youngling tree,\ That with a score of light green brethren shoots From the quaint mossiness of aged roots: ——— 40\ Round which is heard a spring-head of clear waters Babbling so wildly of its lovely daughters The spreading blue-bells: it may haply mourn That such fair clusters should be rudely torn From their fresh beds, and scattered thoughtlessly By infant hands, left on the path to die.\ Open afresh your round of starry folds,\ Ye ardent marigolds!\ Dry up the moisture from your golden lids,\ For great Apollo bids ——— 50\ That in these days your praises should be sung On many harps, which he has lately strung;\ And when again your dewiness he kisses,\ Tell him, I have you in my world of blisses:\ So haply when I rove in some far vale,\ His mighty voice may come upon the gale.\ Here are sweet peas, on tip-toe for a flight:\ With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white,\ And taper fingers catching at all things,\ To bind them all about with tiny rings. ——— 60\ From the eBook edition.
Biographical NotevIntroductionxvPoems (1817)Dedication. To Leigh Hunt, Esq.3'I stood tip-toe upon a little hill'3Specimen of an Induction to a Poem10Calidore: A Fragment12To Some Ladies17On receiving a curious Shell and a Copy of Verses from the Same Ladies18To * * * *20To Hope22Imitation of Spenser24'Woman! when I behold thee flippant, vain'25Epistles27To George Felton Mathew27To my Brother George30To Charles Cowden Clarke34Sonnets381To my Brother George382To * * * * *383Written on the Day that Mr. Leigh Hunt left Prison394'How many bards gild the lapses of time!'395To a Friend who sent me some Roses406To G. A. W.407'O solitude! if I must with thee dwell'418To my Brothers419'Keen fitful gusts are whispering here and there'4210'To one who has been long in city pent'4211On first looking into Chapman's Homer4312On leaving some Friends at an early Hour4313Addressed to Haydon4414Addressed to the Same4415On the Grasshopper and Cricket4516To Kosciusko4517'Happy is England'46Sleep and Poetry47Endymion: A Poetic Romance59Lamia, Isabella, the Eve of St. Agnes and Other Poems (1820)Lamia187Isabella; or, The Pot of Basil208The Eve of St. Agnes224Ode to a Nightingale236Ode on a Grecian Urn238Ode to Psyche240Fancy242Ode245Lines on the Mermaid Tavern246Robin Hood247To Autumn249Ode on Melancholy250Hyperion251Posthumous and Fugitive PoemsOn Peace279Lines written on 29 May, the Anniversary of Charles's Restoration, on hearing the Bells ringing260Ode to Apollo280'As from the darkening gloom a silver dove'281To Lord Byron282'Fill for me a brimming bowl'282To Chatterton283To Emma283'Give me Women, Wine, and Snuff'284On receiving a Laurel Crown from Leigh Hunt285'Come hither all sweet maidens soberly'285Written in Digust of Vulgar Superstition286'O! how I love, on a fair summer's eve'286To a Young Lady who sent me a Laurel Crown287'After dark vapours have oppressed our plains'287Lines in a Letter to J. H. Reynolds, from Oxford288On the Sea288To the Ladies who saw me Crowned289Nebuchadnezzar's Dream289'Haydon! forgive me that I cannot speak'290Hymn to Apollo290On seeing the Elgin Marbles291On 'The Story of Rimini'292Written on a Blank Space at the End of Chaucer's 'The Floure and the Leafe'292'In drear nighted December'293'Unfelt, unheard, unseen'294Stanzas294'Hither, hither, love--'295'Think not of it, sweet one, so--'296On sitting down to read 'King Lear' once again297To a Cat297'Hence Burgundy, Claret, and Port'298Lines on seeing a Lock of Milton's Hair299'When I have fears that I may cease to be'301To the Nile301To a Lady seen for a few Moments at Vauxhall302'Spenser! a jealous honourer of thine'302Answer to a Sonnet by J. H. Reynolds, ending--303Apollo to the Graces303'O blush not so!'304'O thou whose face hath felt the Winter's wind'305The Human Seasons305'Where be ye going, you Devon maid?'306'For there's Bishop's Teign'306To Homer308To J. H. Reynolds from Teignmouth 25 March 1818309'Over the hill and over the dale'312To J. R.313Fragment of an Ode to Maia313'Sweet, sweet is the greeting of eyes'314Acrostic314On visiting the Tomb of Burns315A Song about Myself315To Ailsa Rock319Meg Merrilies319'Ah! ken ye what I met the day'320'All gentle folks who owe a grudge'322'Of late two dainties were before me plac'd'324Sonnet written in the Cottage where Burns was born324Lines written in the Highlands after visiting the Burns Country325Staffa327'Read me a lesson, Muse, and speak it loud'328Ben Nevis: a Dialogue329Song331To his Brother George in America332'Where's the Poet?'334Modern Love334The Castle Builder: Fragments of a Dialogue335'Welcome joy, and welcome sorrow'337'Hush, hush! Tread softly! hush, hush, my dear!'338The Dove339Extracts from an Opera339The Eve of Saint Mark342To Sleep346'Why did I laugh to-night?'346On a Dream after reading of Paolo and Francesca in Dante's 'Inferno'347'The House of Mourning written by Mr. Scott'347'Fame, like a wayward girl'348Song of Four Fairies348La Belle Dame sans Mercy [Indicator version]351La belle dame sans merci353'How fever'd is the man, who cannot look'355'If by dull rhymes our English must be chain'd'355Faery Songs356Spenserian Stanzas on Charles Armitage Brown357Ode on Indolence358A Party of Lovers360'The day is gone'361Lines to Fanny361To Fanny363To Fanny365'This living hand, now warm and capable'365'Bright Star, would I were steadfast as thou art'365Two or three Posies366'When they were come unto the Faery's Court'367'In after-time a sage of mickle lore'370Longer Posthumous Poems: Narrative and DramaticThe Fall of Hyperion: a Vision373The Cap and Bells; or, The Jealousies388Otho the Great413King Stephen479Selected LettersTo Benjamin Bailey, 22 November 1817489To George and Tom Keats, 21, 27 (?) December 1817491To J. H. Reynolds, 3 February 1818493To John Taylor, 27 February 1818494To John Taylor, 24 April 1818495To J. H. Reynolds, 3 May 1818497To Richard Woodhouse, 27 October 1818500To George and Georgiana Keats, 14 February to 3 May 1819502To Fanny Brawne, 25 July 1819507To Percy Bysshe Shelley, 16 August 1820508To Charles Brown, 30 September 1820510To Charles Brown, 30 November 1820512Notes515Index of Titles565Index of First Lines571Commentary577Study Guide597
