THE GOLDEN TREASURY BOOK FOURTH 166 ON FIRST LOOKING INTO CHAPMAN'S HOMER Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; Round many western islands have I been Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanse had I been told 5 10 That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne ; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold : Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez, when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific-and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmiseSilent, upon a peak in Darien. 133 167 ODE ON THE POETS J. KEATS. Bards of Passion and of Mirth Double-lived in regions new? Yes, and those of heaven commune Brows'd by none but Dian's fawns ; Thus ye live on high, and then Of their passions and their spites; What doth strengthen and what maim :--- Bards of Passion and of Mirth Ye have left your souls on earth! Ye have souls in heaven too, Double-lived in regions new! J. KEATS.. 35 40 168 LOVE All thoughts, all passions, all delights, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I The moonshine stealing o'er the scene She lean'd against the arméd man, Few sorrows hath she of her own, The songs that make her grieve. I play'd a soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving storyAn old rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace; For well she knew I could not choose But gaze upon her face. I told her of the Knight that wore 10 15 20 25 30 I told her how he pined; and ah! Interpreted my own. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace; But when I told the cruel scorn That crazed that bold and lovely Knight, And that he cross'd the mountain-woods, Nor rested day nor night; That sometimes from the savage den, And sometimes from the darksome shade, And sometimes starting up at once In green and sunny glade There came and look'd him in the face And that, unknowing what he did, He leap'd amid a murderous band, 35 40 45 50 And saved from outrage worse than death 55 And how she wept, and clasp'd his knees And ever strove to expiate The scorn that crazed his brain; And that she nursed him in a cave, A dying man he lay ; -His dying words-but when I reach'd That tenderest strain of all the ditty, My faltering voice and pausing harp Disturb'd her soul with pity! 60 65 All impulses of soul and sense Had thrill'd my guileless Genevieve; The rich and balmy eve; And hopes, and fears that kindle hope. Subdued and cherish'd long! She wept with pity and delight, She blush'd with love and virgin shame; And, like the murmur of a dream, I heard her breathe my name. Her bosom heaved-she stepp'd aside, She fled to me and wept. She half enclosed me with her arms, 'Twas partly love, and partly fear, I calm'd her fears, and she was calm, My bright and beauteous Bride. S. T. COLERIDGE. 70 75 80 85 90 95 169 ALL FOR LOVE O talk not to me of a name great in story; |