By many a Damsel hoarse, and rouge of

cheek;

Nor did he know each aged Watchman's

beat,

Nor in obscured purlieus would he seek For curled Jewesses, with ankles neat, Who, as they walk abroad, make tinkling with their feet.

'TWO OR THREE POSIES

At the close of a letter, April 17, 1819, to his sister Fanny, Keats writes: Mr. and Mrs. Dilke are coming to dine with us to-day [at Wentworth Place]. They will enjoy the country after Westminster. O there is nothing like fine weather, and health, and Books, and a fine country, and a contented Mind, and diligent habit of reading and thinking, and an amulet against the ennui — and, please heaven, a little claret wine cool out of a cellar a mile deep with a few or a good many ratafia cakes - a rocky basin to bathe in, a strawberry bed to say your prayers to Flora in, a pad nag to go you ten miles or so; two or three sensible people to chat with; two or three spiteful folks to spar with; two or three odd fishes to laugh at and two or three numskulls to argue with instead of using dumb bells on a rainy day.'

Two or three pegs

For two or three bonnets Two or three dove eggs To hatch into sonnets

A PARTY OF LOVERS

'Somewhere in the Spectator is related an account of a man inviting a party of stutterers and squinters to his table. It would please me more to scrape together a party of lovers not to dinner but to tea. There would be no fighting as among knights of old.' Keats to George and Georgiana Keats, September 17, 1819. The play on names seems to indicate some trifling reference to Keats's publishers of Taylor and Hessey.

PENSIVE they sit, and roll their languid eyes,
Nibble their toast, and cool their tea with sighs,
Or else forget the purpose of the night,
Forget their tea- forget their appetite.
See with cross'd arms they sit - ah! happy
crew,

The fire is going out and no one rings
For coals, and therefore no coals Betty brings.
A fly is in the milk-pot - must he die

By a humane society?

No, no; there Mr. Werter takes his spoon,
Inserts it, dips the handle, and lo! soon
The little straggler, sav'd from perils dark,
Across the teaboard draws a long wet mark.

Arise! take snuffers by the handle, There's a large cauliflower in each candle. A winding-sheet, ah me! I must away To No. 7, just beyond the circus gay. 'Alas, my friend! your coat sits very well; Where may your Taylor live?' 'I may not

tell.

O pardon me - I'm absent now and then.
Where might my Taylor live? I say again

I cannot tell, let me no more be teaz'd
He lives in Wapping, might live where he
pleas'd.'

TO GEORGE KEATS

WRITTEN IN SICKNESS

This is from a transcript by George Keats, and dated 1819; but Keats's letters do not disclose any sickness during that year which would be likely to call forth the lines, and the date is probably 1820, if indeed we are author

1. TO CHARLES COWDEN CLARKE

[London, October 31, 1816.] MY DAINTIE DAVIE I will be as punctual as the Bee to the Clover. Very glad am I at the thoughts of seeing so soon this glorious Haydon and all his creation. I pray thee let me know when you go to Ollier's and where he resides this I forgot to ask you and tell me also when you will help me waste a sullen day — God 'ield you 1. J. K.

-

2. TO THE SAME

[London,] Tuesday [December 17, 1816]. MY DEAR CHARLES- You may now look at Minerva's Egis with impunity, seeing that my awful Visage 2 did not turn you into a John Doree. You have accordingly a legitimate title to a Copy- I will use my interest to procure it for you. I'll tell you what I met Reynolds at Haydon's a few mornings since he promised to be with me this Evening and Yesterday I had the same promise from Severn and I must put you in mind that on last All hallowmas' day you gave me your word that you would spend this Evening with me - so no putting off. I have done little to Endymion lately 2. I hope to finish it in one more attack. I believe you I went to Richards's — it was so whoreson a Night that I stopped there all the next day. His Remembrances to you. (Ext. from the common place Book of my Mind - Mem. Wednesday Hampstead call in Warner Street- a sketch of Mr. Hunt.) -I will ever consider you my sincere and affectionate friend you will not doubt

that I am yours.

God bless you —

JOHN KEATS.

Yours most sincerely

JOHN KEATS.

4. TO THE SAME [London, March 17, 1817.] MY DEAR REYNOLDS My Brothers are anxious that I should go by myself into the country they have always been extremely fond of me, and now that Haydon has pointed out how necessary it is that I should be alone to improve myself, they give up the temporary pleasure of living with me continually for a great good which I hope will follow. So I shall soon be out of Town. You must soon bring all your present troubles to a close, and so must I, but we must, like the Fox, prepare for a fresh swarm of flies. Banish money - Banish