FROM
THE POEMS OF JOHN KEATS
The English poet John Keats was born in 1795 and died in 1821
at the young age of 26, yet he earned a permanent place in English literature.
As a romantic poet,
says Edward Albert in “A Short History of English Literature”, whereas Lord Byron (1788-1824) looked around
and criticized; Percy Bysshe Shelley
(1792-1822) looked forward and aspired; Keats looked backward into the romantic
past and sighed.
Keats’s great search was for the joy that lies in beauty, and
this beauty he found most easily in the past.
Physically he was a weakling, suffered from consumption,
studied medicine, wandered in search of health and died in Rome where he lies
buried beside Shelley.
What follows are a few quotable lines from a
handful of his poems.
* A thing of beauty is a joy for
ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will
never
Pass into nothingness; but still will
keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and
quiet breathing. ------From Endymion.
**Heard melodies are sweet, but those
unheard
Are sweeter, ye soft pipes, play on,
Not to the sensual ear, but more
endear’d.--------From Ode On A Grecian Urn.
***Where are the songs of Spring? Ay,
where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music
too.----From Ode to Autumn.
****Can death
be sleep, when life is but a dream,
And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom
by?
The transient pleasures as a vision
seem,
And yet we think the greatest pain’s
to die.
How strange it is that man on earth
should roam,
And lead a life of woe, but not
forsake
His rugged path; nor dare he view
alone
His future doom which is but to
wake.----From On Death.
*****Fade far away, dissolve, and
quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never
known,
The weariness, the fever, and the
fret
Here, where men sit and hear each
other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last
gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and
spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of
sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous
eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond
tomorrow.-----From Ode To A Nightingale.
******Thou,, silent form, dost tease
us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral !
When old age shall this generation
waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other
woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom
thou say’st,
‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty,’---that
is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to
know. ------Last stanza of Ode On A Grecian Urn
*******
G.R.Kanwal
14th January 2025