"Do not all charms fly At the mere touch of cold philosophy? There was an awful rainbow once in heaven; We know her woof, her texture; she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air and gnomed mine-- Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile made The tender-person'd Lamia melt into a shade." Campbell has set forth the same doctrine more fully in _The Rainbow_: but one sounder, braver, and of better hope, by which Keats would have done well to stand, is preached by Wordsworth in his famous Preface. Passing, now, from the narrative to the reflective portion of Keats's work during this period--it was on the odes, we saw, that he was chiefly occupied in the spring months of 1819, from the completion of _St Agnes' Eve_ at Chichester in January until the commencement of _Lamia_ and _Otho the Great_ at Shanklin in June. These odes of Keats constitute a class apart in English literature, in form and manner neither lineally derived from any earlier, nor much resembling any contemporary, verse. In what he calls the 'roundelay' of the Indian maiden in _Endymion_ he had made his most elaborate lyrical attempt until now; and while for once approaching Shelley in lyric ardour and height of pitch, had equalled Coleridge in touches of wild musical beauty and far-sought romance. His new odes are comparatively simple and regular in form. They are written in a strain intense indeed, but meditative and brooding, and quite free from the declamatory and rhetorical elements which we are accustomed to associate with the idea of an ode. Of the five composed in the spring of 1819, two, those on _Psyche_ and the _Grecian Urn_, are inspired by the old Greek world of imagination and art; two, those on _Melancholy_ and the _Nightingale_, by moods of the poet's own mind; while the fifth, that on _Indolence_, partakes in a weaker degree of both inspirations. In the _Psyche_, (where the stanza is of a lengthened type approaching those of Spenser's nuptial odes, but not regularly repeated,) Keats recurs to a theme of which he had long been enamoured, as we know by the lines in the opening poem of his first book, beginning-- "So felt he, who first told how Psyche went On the smooth wind to realms of wonderment."