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Never one, of all the clan,
(25-7) Cancelled reading
Never meet one of all the clan
An old hunting ditty... (29-30) In the draft, Mistress is struck out in favour of Hostess ; and in the finished copy pasture and Trent are connected with a hyphen.
(31-2) In the draft
In the finished manuscript the preposition in line 32 is to ; but in the printed edition for. Instead of the present lines 33 to 42 Keats first wrote the following :
No those times are flown and past.
She would weep and he would craze. But after finishing the poem he wrote on the other side of the paper the delightful lines as they now stand, except that line 37 is
All are gone and all is past ! and in line 39 tufted stands in place of turfed. In the finished copy the words should be and skould have in lines 38 and 40 are underlined.
Gone, the merry morris din ;
So it is : yet let us sing,
(44) In the draft
Fallen beneath the Woodma[n]'s strokes... (49) In the draft, then stands cancelled in favour of yet; and there is an unfinished line struck out immediately afterwards, Though the Glories...
Honour to maid Marian,
(61-2) Line 61 originally began with Though their Pleasures ; and the final line stands in the draft thus
You and I a stave will try. The reading of the text is in the finished manuscript, as well as in the first edition.
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.
2. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
This poem seems to have been just composed when Keats wrote to Reynolds from Winchester his letter of the 22nd of September 1819. He says “How beautiful the season is now. How fine the air-a temperate sharpness about it. Really, without joking, chaste weather-Dian skies. I never liked stubble-fields so much as now aye, better than the chilly green of the Spring. Somehow, a stubble plain looks warm, in the same way that some pictures look warm. This struck me so much in my Sunday's walk that I composed
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers :
Steady thy laden head across a brook ;
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
3. Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies ;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
(3) The term Hedge-crickets for grasshoppers in line 9 resumes very happily the whole sentiment of Keats's competition sonnet On the Grasshopper and Cricket. See Volume I, page 83. 11 revisiou, not of candid. q. y