Inspired with a Flame Divine I scorn to court a stay; For from that noble Soul of thine I ne're can be away. But I shall weep when thou dost grieve; Nor can I die whil'st thou dost live. 6 By my own temper I shall guess At thy felicity, And only like my happiness Because it pleaseth thee. Our hearts at any time will tell If thou, or I, be sick, or well. 7 All Honour sure I must pretend, All that is good or great; She that would be _Rosania's_ Friend, Must be at least compleat.[A] If I have any bravery, 'Tis cause I have so much of thee. 8 Thy Leiger Soul in me shall lie, And all thy thoughts reveal; Then back again with mine shall flie, And thence to me shall steal. Thus still to one another tend; Such is the sacred name of _Friend_. 9 Thus our twin-Souls in one shall grow, And teach the World new Love, Redeem the Age and Sex, and show A Flame Fate dares not move: And courting Death to be our friend, Our Lives together too shall end. 10 A Dew shall dwell upon our Tomb Of such a quality, That fighting Armies, thither come, Shall reconciled be. We'll ask no Epitaph, but say Orinda and Rosania. In other of her poems there is a most delicate fancy of the Fletcher kind--which we will con over together. So Haydon is in Town. I had a letter from him yesterday. We will contrive as the winter comes on--but that is neither here nor there. Have you heard from Rice? Has Martin met with the Cumberland Beggar, or been wondering at the old Leech-gatherer? Has he a turn for fossils? that is, is he capable of sinking up to his Middle in a Morass? How is Hazlitt? We were reading his Table[26] last night. I know he thinks him self not estimated by ten people in the world--I wish he knew he is. I am getting on famous with my third Book--have written 800 lines thereof, and hope to finish it next Week. Bailey likes what I have done very much. Believe me, my dear Reynolds, one of my chief layings-up is the pleasure I shall have in showing it to you, I may now say, in a few days. I have heard twice from my Brothers, they are going on very well, and send their Remembrances to you. We expected to have had notices from little-Hampton this morning--we must wait till Tuesday. I am glad of their Days with the Dilkes. You are, I know, very much teased in that precious London, and want all the rest possible; so I shall be contented with as brief a scrawl--a Word or two, till there comes a pat hour. Send us a few of your stanzas to read in "Reynolds's Cove." Give my Love and respects to your Mother, and remember me kindly to all at home. Yours faithfully JOHN KEATS. I have left the doublings for Bailey, who is going to say that he will write to you to-morrow. XVII.--TO BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON. Oxford, September 28 [1817].