Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old, and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
‘Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms;
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink.
John Keats (1795-1821) was a British Romantic poet.
Although trained to be a surgeon, Keats decided to
devote himself wholly to poetry. Keats’ secret, his power
to sway and delight the readers, lies primarily in his
gift for perceiving the world and living his moods and
aspirations in terms of language. The following is an
excerpt from his poem ‘Endymion; A Poetic Romance’.
The poem is based on a Greek legend, in which
Endymion, a beautiful young shepherd and poet who
lived on Mount Latmos, had a vision of Cynthia, the
Moon Goddess. The enchanted youth resolved to seek
her out and so wandered away through the forest and
down under the sea.