Poem by John Keats

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Gif ye wol stonden hardie wight -
Amiddès of the blackè night -
Righte in the churchè porch, pardie,
Ye wol behold a companie
Approchen thee full dolourouse.
For sooth to sain, from everich house,
Be it in city or village,
Wol come the phantom and image
Of ilka gent and ilka carle,
Whom coldè Deathè hath in parle
And wol some day that very year,
Touchen with foulè venìme spear
And sadly do them all to die:
Hem all shalt thou see verilie.
And everichon shall by thee pass,
All who must die that year, alas....

1. On Receiving a Laurel Crown from Leigh Hunt
2. Bards of Passion and of Mirth
3. Specimen of Induction to a Poem
4. Calidore
5. On Fame

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