John Keats
(On re-reading Keats’s To Autumn)
[Alternative version of: On Re-reading Keats]
Reading your works again, (my friend long dead),
A pile of plangent words heaps in my head
Till I’m replete with feelings strange and strong,
My senses harvested by scything song.
John Keats!. Autumn’s expressive advocate!
In this rare work my instincts can locate
Contentment in repose, pleasure in ease.
My mind had not met lines as fine as these
Beautiful, eloquently rich refrains
From life – nor had my thoughts’ broadest domains
Gleaned fields half so luxuriantly full
And ripe for sharp imagination’s cull –
Until I found your verse. Since then I have enjoyed
The savour of your Autumn’s fruits, still unalloyed.
