A Household Book of English Poetry: Selected and Arranged with Notes

American poetry; English poetry

O latest-born and loveliest vision far
      Of all Olympus’ faded hierarchy!                                25
    Fairer than Phœbe’s sapphire-regioned star!
      Or Vesper, amorous glowworm of the sky;
    Fairer than these, though temple thou hast none,
            Nor altar heaped with flowers;
    Nor Virgin-choir to make delicious moan                           30
            Upon the midnight hours;
    No voice, no lute, no pipe, no incense sweet
      From chain-swung censer teeming;
    No shrine, no grove, no oracle, no heat
      Of pale-mouthed prophet dreaming.                               35
    O brightest! though too late for antique vows,
      Too, too late for the fond believing lyre,
    When holy were the haunted forest boughs,
      Holy the air, the water, and the fire;
    Yet even in these days so far retired                             40
      From happy pieties, thy lucent fans,
      Fluttering among the faint Olympians,
    I see, and sing, by my own eyes inspired.
      So let me be thy choir, and make a moan
          Upon the midnight hours;                                    45
    Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet
      From swingèd censer teeming:
    Thy shrine, thy grove, thy oracle, thy heat
      Of pale-mouthed prophet dreaming.

    Yes, I will be thy priest, and build a fane                       50
      In some untrodden region of my mind,
    Where branchèd thoughts, new-grown with pleasant pain,
      Instead of pines shall murmur in the wind:
    Far, far around shall those dark-clustered trees
      Fledge the wild-ridgèd mountains steep by steep;                55
    And there by zephyrs, streams, and birds, and bees,
      The moss-lain Dryads shall be lulled to sleep;
    And in the midst of this wide quietness
    A rosy sanctuary will I dress
    With the wreathed trellis of a working brain,                     60
      With buds, and bells, and stars without a name,
    With all the gardener Fancy e’er could feign,
      Who breeding flowers, will never breed the same:
    And there shall be for thee all soft delight
      That shadowy thought can win,                                   65
    A bright torch, and a casement ope at night,
      To let the warm Love in!
              _John Keats._




CXCIV

_THE SUNFLOWER._


    Ah Sunflower! weary of time,
    Who countest the steps of the sun;
    Seeking after that sweet golden clime
    Where the traveller’s journey is done;
    Where the Youth pined away with desire,                            5
    And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow,
    Arise from their graves, and aspire
    Where my Sunflower wishes to go.
              _William Blake._




CXCV

_REGRETS._

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

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General

A Household Book of English Poetry: Selected and Arranged with Notes

American poetry; English poetry

O latest-born and loveliest vision far
      Of all Olympus’ faded hierarchy!                                25
    Fairer than Phœbe’s sapphire-regioned star!
      Or Vesper, amorous glowworm of the sky;
    Fairer than these, though temple thou hast none,
            Nor altar heaped with flowers;
    Nor Virgin-choir to make delicious moan                           30
            Upon the midnight hours;
    No voice, no lute, no pipe, no incense sweet
      From chain-swung censer teeming;
    No shrine, no grove, no oracle, no heat
      Of pale-mouthed prophet dreaming.                               35
    O brightest! though too late for antique vows,
      Too, too late for the fond believing lyre,
    When holy were the haunted forest boughs,
      Holy the air, the water, and the fire;
    Yet even in these days so far retired                             40
      From happy pieties, thy lucent fans,
      Fluttering among the faint Olympians,
    I see, and sing, by my own eyes inspired.
      So let me be thy choir, and make a moan
          Upon the midnight hours;                                    45
    Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet
      From swingèd censer teeming:
    Thy shrine, thy grove, thy oracle, thy heat
      Of pale-mouthed prophet dreaming.

    Yes, I will be thy priest, and build a fane                       50
      In some untrodden region of my mind,
    Where branchèd thoughts, new-grown with pleasant pain,
      Instead of pines shall murmur in the wind:
    Far, far around shall those dark-clustered trees
      Fledge the wild-ridgèd mountains steep by steep;                55
    And there by zephyrs, streams, and birds, and bees,
      The moss-lain Dryads shall be lulled to sleep;
    And in the midst of this wide quietness
    A rosy sanctuary will I dress
    With the wreathed trellis of a working brain,                     60
      With buds, and bells, and stars without a name,
    With all the gardener Fancy e’er could feign,
      Who breeding flowers, will never breed the same:
    And there shall be for thee all soft delight
      That shadowy thought can win,                                   65
    A bright torch, and a casement ope at night,
      To let the warm Love in!
              _John Keats._




CXCIV

_THE SUNFLOWER._


    Ah Sunflower! weary of time,
    Who countest the steps of the sun;
    Seeking after that sweet golden clime
    Where the traveller’s journey is done;
    Where the Youth pined away with desire,                            5
    And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow,
    Arise from their graves, and aspire
    Where my Sunflower wishes to go.
              _William Blake._




CXCV

_REGRETS._

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

A Household Book of English Poetry: Selected and Arranged with Notes

A Household Book of English Poetry: Selected and Arranged with Notes

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