Life of John Keats: His Life and Poetry, His Friends, Critics and After-FameColvin, Sidney
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Life of John Keats: His Life and Poetry, His Friends, Critics and After-Fame
Colvin, Sidney
Keats, John, 1795-1821; Poets, English -- 19th century -- Biography
It is an awful mission,
A terrible division;
And leaves a gulph austere
To be fill'd with worldly fear.
Aye, when the soul is fled
Too high above our head,
Affrighted do we gaze
After its airy maze,
As doth a mother wild,
When her young infant child
Is in eagle's claws--
And is not this the cause
Of madness?--God of Song,
Thou bearest me along
Through sights I scarce can bear;
O let me, let me share
With the hot lyre and thee,
The staid Philosophy.
Temper my lonely hours,
And let me see thy bowers
More unalarm'd!
But our main business in this chapter must be not with illuminating
snatches such as these, but with things begun of set purpose and not
carried through.
When Keats, drawing near the end of his work on _Endymion_, was
meditating what he meant to be his second long and arduous poem,
_Hyperion_, he still thought and spoke of it as a 'romance.' But a
phrase he uses elsewhere shows him conscious that its style would have
to be more 'naked and Grecian' than that of _Endymion_. Was he trying an
experiment in the naked and Grecian style when on May day 1818 he wrote
at Teignmouth the beginning of an ode on Maia? He never went on with it,
and the fragment as it stands is of fourteen lines only; but these are
in a more truly Greek manner than anything else he wrote, not even
excepting, as I have just said, the _Ode to Autumn_. The words figuring
what Greek poets were and did for Greek communities, and expressing the
aspiration to be even as they, bear the true, the classic, mint-mark of
absolute economy and simplicity in absolute rightness. Considering how
meagre are the hints antiquity has left us concerning Maia, the eldest
of the Pleiades and mother of Hermes, and her late identification with
the Roman divinity to whom sacrifice was paid on the first of May, and
hence how little material for development the theme seems to
offer,--considering these things, perhaps it is as well that Keats,
despite his promise to finish it 'all in good time,' should have
tantalized posterity by breaking off this beautiful thing where he did.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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