SONNET

THE HUMAN SEASONS

FOUR seasons fill the measure of the year;
There are four seasons in the mind of man:
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
Takes in all beauty with an easy span:
He has his Summer, when luxuriously

Spring's honied cud of youthful thought he loves
To ruminate, and by such dreaming nigh
His nearest unto heaven: quiet coves

His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness-to let fair things

Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,
Or else he would forego his mortal nature.

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EXTRACTS FROM AN OPERA

O! WERE I one of the Olympian twelve,
Their godships should pass this into a law,—
That when a man doth set himself in toil

After some beauty veiled far away,

Each step he took should make his lady's hand
More soft, more white, and her fair cheek more fair;
And for each briar-berry he might eat,

A kiss should bud upon the tree of love,
And pulp and ripen richer every hour,
To melt away upon the traveller's lips.

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The text of the Sonnet is that contributed by Keats to Hunt's "Literary Pocket-Book." An earlier version is preserved by Woodhouse.

2 Four seasons are there. Woodhouse.

6-10 He chews the honied cud of fair spring thoughts,

Till in his soul, dissolv'd, they come to be

Part of himself: He hath his Autumn Ports

And havens of repose, when his tired wings
Are folded up, and he content to look Woodhouse.

DAISY'S SONG

I.

The sun, with his great eye,
Sees not so much as I;

And the moon, all silver-proud,
Might as well be in a cloud.

II.

And O the spring-the spring!
I lead the life of a king!
Couch'd in the teeming grass,
1 spy each pretty lass.

III.

I look where no one dares,

And I stare where no one stares,

And when the night is nigh,

Lambs bleat my lullaby.

FOLLY'S SONG

When wedding fiddles are a-playing,
Huzza for folly O!

And when maidens go a-maying,

Huzza, &c.

When a milk-pail is upset,

Huzza, &c.

And the clothes left in the wet,
Huzza, &c.

When the barrel's set abroach,

Huzza, &c.

When Kate Eyebrow keeps a coach,

Huzza, &c.

When the pig is over-roasted,

Huzza, &c.

And the cheese is over-toasted,

Huzza, &c.

When Sir Snap is with his lawyer,
Huzza, &c.

And Miss Chip has kiss'd the sawyer,
Huzza, &c.

Oh, I am frighten'd with most hateful thoughts!
Perhaps her voice is not a nightingale's,
Perhaps her teeth are not the fairest pearl;
Her eye-lashes may be, for aught I know,
Not longer than the May-fly's small fan-horns;
There may not be one dimple on her hand;
And freckles many; ah! a careless nurse,
In haste to teach the little thing to walk,
May have crumpt up a pair of Dian's legs,
And warpt the ivory of a Juno's neck.

SONG
I.

The stranger lighted from his steed,

And ere he spake a word,
He seiz'd my lady's lilly hand,

And kiss'd it all unheard.

II.

The stranger walk'd into the hall,
And ere he spake a word,
He kiss'd my lady's cherry lips,
And kiss'd 'em all unheard.

III.

The stranger walk'd into the bower,

But my lady first did go,

Aye hand in hand into the bower,
Where my lord's roses blow.

IV.

My lady's maid had a silken scarf,

And a golden ring had she,

And a kiss from the stranger, as off he went
Again on his fair palfrey.

Asleep! O sleep a little while, white pearl!
And let me kneel, and let me pray to thee,
And let me call Heaven's blessing on thine eyes,
And let me breathe into the happy air,
That doth enfold and touch thee all about,
Vows of my slavery, my giving up,

My sudden adoration, my great love!

311

FAERY SONGS

I.

SHED no tear-O shed no tear!
The flower will bloom another year.
Weep no more-O weep no more!
Young buds sleep in the root's white core.
Dry your eyes-0 dry your eyes,
For I was taught in Paradise
To ease my breast of melodies-
Shed no tear.

Overhead-look overhead

'Mong the blossoms white and red—
Look up, look up-I flutter now
On this flush pomegranate bough—
See me 'tis this silvery bill
Ever cures the good man's ill-
Shed no tear-O shed no tear!
The flower will bloom another year.
Adieu-Adieu-I fly, adieu,

I vanish in the heaven's blue-
Adieu, Adieu !

II.

Ah! woe is me! poor silver-wing!
That I must chant thy lady's dirge,

And death to this fair haunt of spring,

Of melody, and streams of flowery verge,Poor silver-wing! ah! woe is me!

That I must see

These blossoms snow upon thy lady's pall!
Go, pretty page! and in her ear

Whisper that the hour is near!

Softly tell her not to fear

Such calm favonian burial!

Go, pretty page! and soothly tell,

The blossoms hang by a melting spell,

And fall they must, ere a star wink thrice

Upon her closed eyes,

That now in vain are weeping their last tears,

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10

At sweet life leaving, and these arbours green,Rich dowry from the Spirit of the Spheres,

Alas! poor Queen!

SONNET

TO HOMER

STANDING aloof in giant ignorance,

Of thee I hear and of the Cyclades,
As one who sits ashore and longs perchance
To visit dolphin-coral in deep seas.

So thou wast blind;-but then the veil was rent,
For Jove uncurtain'd Heaven to let thee live,
And Neptune made for thee a spumy tent,

And Pan made sing for thee his forest-hive;
Aye on the shores of darkness there is light,
And precipices show untrodden green,
There is a budding morrow in midnight,

There is a triple sight in blindness keen;
Such seeing hadst thou, as it once befel
To Dian, Queen of Earth, and Heaven, and Hell.

SONG

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[Written on a blank page in Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, between "Cupid's Revenge" and "The Two Noble Kinsmen."]