We who loved Keats will never long forget Your memory, Severn: how your hand could trace With tenderest art his dream-enshrouded face; Could mould that moonlight-haunted brow, where met, As in a fane on some Greek island set, The beauty that transcends all time and place, And the more winsome, earth-begotten grace Of altar-flowers with limpid dew-drops wet. But what you gave to Keats the man, your friend, Has bound your name to his with dearer ties. You soothed and shared his anguish at the end; You heard the last cry of those passionate lips; You last beheld those wonder-seeing eyes; And watched the soul win free from Time's eclipse. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG:SO WHY DOES THIS DEAD CARNATION by HAYDEN CARRUTH BATTLE OF BRITAIN by CECIL DAY LEWIS A MAN'S VOCATION IS NOBODY'S BUSINESS by JAMES GALVIN POSSUM SONG (A WARNING) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON A BANJO SONG by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |