Part 5 (1/2)

AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF JOHN KEATS,

Author of _Endymion, Hyperion,_ etc.

[Greek:

Astaer prin men elampes eni zooisin eoos.

Nun de thanon lampeis esperos en phthimenois.]

PLATO.

PREFACE.

[Greek:

Pharmakon aelthe Bion poti son stoma, pharmakon eides.

Pos teu tois cheilessi potedrame kouk eglukanthae; Tis de Brotos tossouton anameros ae kerasai toi, Ae dounai laleonti to pharmakon; ekphugen odan.]

MOSCHUS, EPITAPH. BION.

It is my intention to subjoin to the London edition of this poem a criticism upon the claims of its lamented object to be cla.s.sed among the writers of the highest genius who have adorned our age. 15 My known repugnance to the narrow principles of taste on which several of his earlier compositions were modelled proves at least that I am an impartial judge. I consider the fragment of _Hyperion_ as second to nothing that was ever produced by a writer of the same years. 20

John Keats died at Rome of a consumption, in his twenty-fourth year, on the [23rd] of [February] 1821; and was buried in the romantic and lonely cemetery of the protestants in that city, under the pyramid which is the tomb of Cestius, and the ma.s.sy walls and towers, now mouldering and desolate, which formed the circuit of 25 ancient Rome. The cemetery is an open s.p.a.ce among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.

30 The genius of the lamented person to whose memory I have dedicated these unworthy verses was not less delicate and fragile than it was beautiful; and, where canker-worms abound, what wonder if its young flower was blighted in the bud? The savage criticism on his _Endymion_ which appeared in the _Quarterly Review_ produced the 35 most violent effect on his susceptible mind. The agitation thus originated ended in the rupture of a blood-vessel in the lungs; a rapid consumption ensued; and the succeeding acknowledgments, from more candid critics, of the true greatness of his powers, were ineffectual to heal the wound thus wantonly inflicted.

40 It may be well said that these wretched men know not what they do.

They scatter their insults and their slanders without heed as to whether the poisoned shaft lights on a heart made callous by many blows, or one, like Keats's, composed of more penetrable stuff. One of their a.s.sociates is, to my knowledge, a most base and unprincipled 45 calumniator. As to _Endymion_, was it a poem, whatever might be its defects, to be treated contemptuously by those who had celebrated with various degrees of complacency and panegyric _Paris_, and _Woman_ and _A Syrian Tale_, and Mrs. Lefanu, and Mr. Barrett, and Mr. Howard Payne, and a long list of the ill.u.s.trious 50 obscure? Are these the men who, in their venal good-nature, presumed to draw a parallel between the Rev. Mr. Milman and Lord Byron? What gnat did they strain at here, after having swallowed all those camels? Against what woman taken in adultery dares the foremost of these literary prost.i.tutes to cast his opprobrious stone? 55 Miserable man! you, one of the meanest, have wantonly defaced one of the n.o.blest, specimens of the workmans.h.i.+p of G.o.d. Nor shall it be your excuse that, murderer as you are, you have spoken daggers, but used none.

The circ.u.mstances of the closing scene of poor Keats's life were 60 not made known to me until the Elegy was ready for the press. I am given to understand that the wound which his sensitive spirit had received from the criticism of _Endymion_ was exasperated by the bitter sense of unrequited benefits; the poor fellow seems to have been hooted from the stage of life, no less by those on whom 65 he had wasted the promise of his genius than those on whom he had lavished his fortune and his care.

He was accompanied to Rome, and attended in his last illness, by Mr.

Severn, a young artist of the highest promise, who, I have been informed, 'almost risked his own life, and sacrificed every prospect to unwearied attendance upon his dying friend.' Had I known these circ.u.mstances before the completion 70 of my poem, I should have been tempted to add my feeble tribute of applause to the more solid recompense which the virtuous man finds in the recollection of his own motives. Mr. Severn can dispense with a reward from 'such stuff as dreams are made of.' His conduct is a golden augury of the success of his future career. 75 May the unextinguished spirit of his ill.u.s.trious friend animate the creations of his pencil, and plead against oblivion for his name!

ADONAIS.

1.

I weep for Adonais--he is dead!

Oh weep for Adonais, though our tears Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head!

And thou, sad Hour selected from all years To mourn our loss, rouse thy obscure compeers, 5 And teach them thine own sorrow! Say: 'With me Died Adonais! Till the future dares Forget the past, his fate and fame shall be An echo and a light unto eternity.'

2.

Where wert thou, mighty Mother, when he lay, When thy son lay, pierced by the shaft which flies In darkness? Where was lorn Urania When Adonais died? With veiled eyes, 'Mid listening Echoes, in her paradise 5 She sate, while one, with soft enamoured breath, Rekindled all the fading melodies With which, like flowers that mock the corse beneath, He had adorned and hid the coming bulk of Death.