Poem by John Keats

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The House of Mourning written by Mr. Scott,
A sermon at the Magdalen, a tear
Dropped on a greasy novel, want of cheer
After a walk uphill to a friend's cot,
Tea with a maiden lady, a cursed lot
Of worthy poems with the author near,
A patron lord, a drunkenness from beer,
Haydon's great picture, a cold coffee pot
At midnight when the Muse is ripe for labour,
The voice of Mr. Coleridge, a French bonnet
Before you in the pit, a pipe and tabour,
A damned inseparable flute and neighbour -
All these are vile, but viler Wordsworth's sonnet
On Dover. Dover! - who could write upon it?

1. On Hearing the Bag-Pipe and Seeing “The Stranger” Played at Inverary
2. Why Did I Laugh Tonight? No Voice Will Tell
3. Written in Answer to a Sonnet by J.H. Reynolds
4. What the Thrush Said
5. To a Lady Seen for a Few Moments at Vauxhall

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