Petrarch, outstepping from the shady green,
Starts at the sight of Laura; nor can wean

His eyes from her sweet face. Most happy they!
For over them was seen a free display

390

Of out-spread wings, and from between them shone
The face of Poesy: from off her throne
She overlook'd things that I scarce could tell.
The very sense of where I was might well
Keep Sleep aloof: but more than that there came
Thought after thought to nourish up the flame
Within my breast; so that the morning light
Surprised me even from a sleepless night;
And up I rose refresh'd, and glad, and gay,
Resolving to begin that very day

These lines; and howsoever they be done,
I leave them as a father does his son.

400

ENDYMION:

A POETIC ROMANCE.

INSCRIBED

TO THE MEMORY

OF

THOMAS CHATTERTON.

1818.

KNOWING Within myself the manner in which this Poem has been produced, it is not without a feeling of regret that I make it public.

What manner I mean, will be quite clear to the reader, who must soon perceive great inexperience, immaturity, and every error denoting a feverish attempt, rather than a deed accomplished. The two first books, and indeed the two last, I feel sensible are not of such completion as to warrant their passing the press; nor should they if I thought a year's castigation would do them any good;-it will not: the foundations are too sandy. It is just that this youngster should die away: a sad thought for me, if I had not some hope that while it is dwindling I may be plotting, and fitting myself for verses fit to live.

This may be speaking too presumptuously, and may deserve a punishment: but no feeling man will be forward to inflict it: he will leave me alone, with the conviction that there is not a fiercer hell than the failure in a great object. This is not written with the least atom of purpose to forestall criticisms of course, but from the desire I have to conciliate men who are competent to look, and who do look with a zealous eye, to the honour of English literature.

The imagination of a boy is healthy, and the mature imagination of a man is healthy; but there is a space of life between, in which the soul is in a ferment, the character undecided, the way of life uncertain, the ambition thick-sighted: thence proceeds mawkishness, and all the thousand bitters which those men I speak of must necessarily taste in going over the following pages.

I hope I have not in too late a day touched the beautiful mythology of Greece, and dulled its brightness: for I wish to try once more', before I bid it farewell. TEIGNMOUTH, April 10, 1818.

1 Woodhouse notes-This alluded to his then intention of writing a poem on the fall of Hyperion. He commenced this poem but, thanks to the critics who fell foul of this work, he discontinued it. The fragment was published in 1820.

ENDYMION

BOOK I

A THING of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep

Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old, and young, sprouting a shady boon

For simple sheep; and such are daffodils

10

With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read :

20

1 The manuscript shows no variation in the opening line; but the late Sir Benjamin Ward Richardson told me that Mr. Henry Stephens of Finchley, who was a fellow student in medicine with Keats, and lived in the same rooms with him for a time, recollected an earlier first line. Keats is said to have written in some rough draft of his intended opening A thing of beauty is a constant joy:

Stephens, on hearing this, pronounced it a fine line, but wanting something.' Keats pondered it over, and at length broke out with an inspired 'I have it,' and set down the household word that now stands at the head of the poem.

13 Instead of line 13 there were originally three lines in the manuscript : From our dark Spirits, and before us dances

Like glitter on the points of Arthur's Lances.

Of these bright powers are the Sun, and Moon...