Apollo and the Graces, por John Keats

John Keats

Apollo and the Graces

APOLLO

WHICH of the fairest three

To-day will ride with me?

My steeds are all pawing at the threshold of the morn:

Which of the fairest three

To-day will ride with me

Across the gold Autumn’s whole Kingdom of corn?

THE GRACES all answer

I will, I– I– I

young Apollo let me fly

Along with thee,

I will– I, I, I,

The many wonders see

I– I– I - I

And thy lyre shall never have a slackened string:

I, I, I, I,

Thro’ the golden day will sing.

#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury

¿Disfrutate esta lectura? ¡invítanos a un café!.
Tu ayuda nos permite existir.

Preferido o celebrado por...

Otras obras de John Keats...

Sonnet: After Dark Vapors Have Oppress’D Our Plains

After dark vapors have oppress’d o… For a long dreary season, comes a… Born of the gentle South, and cle… From the sick heavens all unseemly… The anxious month, relieved of its…

Ode to Psyche

O Goddess! hear these tuneless nu… By sweet enforcement and remembran… And pardon that thy secrets should… Even into thine own soft-conched e… Surely I dreamt to-day, or did I…

Sonnet VIII. To my Brothers

Small, busy flames play through th… And their faint cracklings o’er ou… Like whispers of the household god… A gentle empire o’er fraternal sou… And while, for rhymes, I search a…

Lines on Seeing a Lock of Milton’s Hair

Chief of organic Numbers! Old Scholar of the Spheres! Thy spirit never slumbers, But rolls about our ears For ever and for ever.

Fragment of ‘The Castle Builder.’

To-night I’ll have my friar—let m… About my room,—I’ll have it in th… It should be rich and sombre, and… Just in its mid-life in the midst… Should look thro’ four large windo…

from Endymion: a thing of beauty

A thing of beauty is a joy for eve… Its loveliness increases; it will… Pass into nothingness; but still w… A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health,…

Song of the Indian Maid, From 'Endymion’

O SORROW! Why dost borrow The natural hue of health, from… To give maiden blushes To the white rose bushes?

Epistle to John Hamilton Reynolds

Dear Reynolds, as last night I la… There came before my eyes that won… Of shapes, and shadows, and rememb… That every other minute vex and pl… Things all disjointed come from no…

Sonnet. If by Dull Rhymes Our English Must Be Chain’D

If by dull rhymes our English mus… And, like Andromeda, the Sonnet s… Fetter’d, in spite of pained lovel… Let us find out, if we must be con… Sandals more interwoven and comple…

Sonnet. Written on a Blank Space at the End of Chaucer’s Tale of 'The Floure and the Lefe’

This pleasant tale is like a littl… The honied lines do freshly interl… To keep the reader in so sweet a p… So that he here and there full hea… And oftentimes he feels the dewy d…

Two Or Three

Two or three Posies With two or three simples— Two or three Noses With two or three pimples— Two or three wise men

Two Sonnets on Fame

Fame, like a wayward girl, will st… To those who woo her with too slav… But makes surrender to some though… And dotes the more upon a heart at… She is a Gypsy,-will not speak to…

The Day Is Gone, and All Its Sweets Are Gone

The day is gone, and all its sweet… Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand… Warm breath, light whisper, tender… Bright eyes, accomplished shape, a… Faded the flower and all its budde…

Where’s the Poet?

Where’s the Poet? show him! show… Muses nine! that I may know him. ‘Tis the man who with a man Is an equal, be he King, Or poorest of the beggar-clan

This Living Hand

This living hand, now warm and cap… Of earnest grasping, would, if it… And in the icy silence of the tomb… So haunt thy days and chill thy dr… That thou wouldst wish thine own h…

John Keats