Poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

John Keats

The weltering London ways where children weep
   And girls whom none call maidens laugh, - strange road
   Miring his outward steps, who inly trode
The bright Castalian brink and Latmos' steep: -
Even such his life's cross-paths; till deathly deep,
   He toiled through sands of Lethe; and long pain,
   Weary with labour spurned and love found vain,
In dead Rome's sheltering shadow wrapped his sleep.

O pang-dowered Poet, whose reverberant lips
And heart-strung lyre awoke the Moon's eclipse, -
   Thou whom the daisies glory in growing o'er, -
Their fragrance clings around thy name, not writ
But rumour'd in water, while the fame of it
   Along Time's flood goes echoing evermore.

1. The House of Life. Sonnet 70. The Hill Summit
2. On Certain Elizabethan Revivals
3. Penumbra
4. At Issue
5. The House of Life. Sonnet 66. The Heart of the Night

Richard Hovey John Keats ("IF thou canst not from some superior sphere")

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