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"Under the flag

Of each his faction, they to battle bring
Their embryo atoms."--MILTON.

WELCOME joy, and welcome sorrow,

Lethe's weed and Hermes' feather;

Come to-day, and come to-morrow,

I do love you both together!

I love to mark sad faces in fair weather; 5
And hear a merry laugh amid the thunder;
Fair and foul I love together.

Meadows sweet where flames are under,
And a giggle at a wonder;
Visage sage at pantomime;
Funeral, and steeple-chime;
Infant playing with a skull;
Morning fair, and shipwreck'd hull ;
Nightshade with the woodbine kissing;
Serpents in red roses hissing;
Cleopatra regal-dress'd

With the aspic at her breast;
Dancing music, music sad,
Both together, sane and mad;
Muses bright and muses pale;




This is the fourth of the undated fragments at the end of Volume I of the Life.

Sombre Saturn, Momus hale ;-
Laugh and sigh, and laugh again;
Oh the sweetness of the pain!
Muses bright, and muses pale,
Bare your faces of the veil ;
Let me see; and let me write
Of the day, and of the night-

Both together:-let me slake
All my thirst for sweet heart-ache!
Let my bower be of yew,
Interwreath'd with myrtles new ;
Pines and lime-trees full in bloom,
And my couch a low grass-tomb.





HEN I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain, Before high piled books, in charactry,

Hold like rich garners the full ripen'd grain ; When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,

Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace

Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance ; And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,

That I shall never look upon thee more, Never have relish in the faery power

Of unreflecting love ;-then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

This sonnet, of which there is a fair manuscript dated 1817 in Sir Charles Dilke's copy of Endymion, was printed among the Literary Remains in the second volume of the Life, Letters &c. (1848). The text as given above accords entirely with the manuscript.



STANDING aloof in giant ignorance,

Of thee I hear and of the Cyclades,
As one who sits ashore and longs perchance
To visit dolphin-coral in deep seas.

So thou wast blind;-but then the veil was rent,
For Jove uncurtain'd Heaven to let thee live,
And Neptune made for thee a spumy tent,

And Pan made sing for thee his forest-hive;

This admirable sonnet also occurs in manuscript in Sir Charles Dilke's copy of Endymion, and was included, like the preceding, in the Literary Remains. The date given in both places is 1818. The evidence of the manuscript on this point is of consequence as bearing on the relative positions of this sonnet and that On first looking into Chapman's Homer (Volume I, page 77). I understand the "giant ignorance" of line I to have reference to Keats's inability to enjoy Homer in the original Greek, and not to an entire ignorance of the Iliad and Odyssey such as might have characterized the period before the sonnet on Chapman's version was written in 1816. Indeed the second quatrain seems to me to be too well felt for so vague an attitude as Keats's must have been towards Homer before he knew any version at all; but the late Dante Gabriel Rossetti, whose intuitions in such matters were of the keenest, and entitled to the most careful consideration, held that the present sonnet must have preceded that of 1816, and received with considerable reserve the evidence as to the date which I communicated to him in the course of our correspondence. It will be of interest to many lovers both of Keats and of Rossetti to learn that the later

Aye on the shores of darkness there is light,
And precipices show untrodden green,
There is a budding morrow in midnight,

There is a triple sight in blindness keen;
Such seeing hadst thou, as it once befel
To Dian, Queen of Earth, and Heaven, and Hell.

poet whom we have but lately lost considered this sonnet to contain Keats's finest single line of poetry

There is a budding morrow in midnight,

a line which Rossetti told me he thought one of the finest "in all poetry." No one will dispute that it is a most astonishing line, more particularly for a young man of Keats's years in 1818. The text given above is that of Sir Charles Dilke's manuscript, in which, however, the word spumy in line 7 is altered to spermy in what seems to me to be the handwriting of Mr. Dilke, the grandfather of the present Baronet.

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