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When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be
When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripen’d grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love;–then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
Sonnet on Fame
Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy
To those who woo her with too slavish knees,
But makes surrender to some thoughtless boy,
And dotes the more upon a heart at ease;
She is a Gipsey, – will not speak to those
Who have not learnt to be content without her;
A Jilt, whose ear was never whisper’d close,
Who thinks they scandal her who talk about her;
A very Gipsey is she, Nilus-born,
Sister-in-law to jealous Potiphar;
Ye love-sick Bards! repay her scorn for scorn;
Ye Artists lovelorn! madmen that ye are!
Make your best bow to her and bid adieu,
Then, if she likes it, she will follow you.
(John Keats: 1795-1821)
Wine Women and Snuff
Give me women, wine and snuff
Until I cry out “hold, enough!”
You may do so sans objection
Til the day of resurrection;
For bless my beard they aye shall be
My beloved Trinity.
Lord Byron was a whining sissy compared to John Keats. Lord Byron never wrote about snuff. John Keats wrote “Wine, Women, and Snuff” Quo erat demonstrandum. Lord Byron was a sissy.