Page:The complete poetical works and letters of John Keats, 1899.djvu/69

Rh With him,' said I, 'will take a pleasant charm;

It cannot be that ought will work him harm.'

These thoughts now come o'er me with all their might:—

Again I shake your hand,—friend Charles, good night.

busy flames play through the fresh-laid coals,

And their faint cracklings o'er our silence creep

Like whispers of the household gods that keep

A gentle empire o'er fraternal souls.

And while, for rhymes, I search around the poles,

Your eyes are fix'd, as in poetic sleep,

Upon the lore so voluble and deep,

That aye at fall of night our care condoles.

This is your birth-day, Tom, and I rejoice

That thus it passes smoothly, quietly:

Many such eves of gently whisp'ring noise

May we together pass, and calmly try

What are this world's true joys,—ere the great Voice,

From its fair face, shall bid our spirits fly.

spirits now on earth are sojourning;

He of the cloud, the cataract, the lake,

Who on Helvellyn's summit, wide awake,

Catches his freshness from Archangel's wing:

He of the rose, the violet, the spring,

The social smile, the chain for Freedom's sake:

And lo!—whose steadfastness would never take

A meaner sound than Raphael's whispering.

And other spirits there are standing apart

Upon the forehead of the age to come;

These, these will give the world another heart,

And other pulses. Hear ye not the hum

Of mighty workings in the human mart?

Listen awhile ye nations, and be dumb.

a jealousy for good,

A loving-kindness for the great man's fame,

Dwells here and there with people of no name,

In noisome alley, and in pathless wood:

And where we think the truth least understood,

Oft may be found a 'singleness of aim,'

That ought to frighten into hooded shame

A money-mong'ring, pitiable brood.

How glorious this affection for the cause

Of steadfast genius, toiling gallantly!