TO JOHN KEATS: A SONNET

TO JOHN KEATS

Dear priest and prophet,
cantor of sweet time,
Grand dreamer
of delicious lore and fame,
What e'er you viewed
that spirit you became
To sing its joy and sorrow
in rich rhyme.
And when the frenzy
wrought a poem sublime
Each line reveals
the soul you sought to claim.
But now unto Apollo
songs you frame.
For us your hymn
fell silent ere its prime.
But in the sacred bower
of your mind,
Before the timeless font
of pleasure-pain
Will you not say a prayer
of soft design
To make his Muses
mold me in your kind
And by your saintly chants
have me ordained,
If unsung rhymes
in Faerielande remain?

Category:

Entertainment

Tags:

• sonnet
• Keats
• poetry
• inspiration

[Alicia7777777]

Simply wonderful. 5*

[glenfitch]

Thank you

[brychar66]

I totally agree with Theotokos. Again, superb writing & delivery.

[glenfitch]

thank you for your kind words.

consider spreading mine around if you can

Glen

[PoetryETrain]

This has been added to our Sonnet playlist thank you...

[FLKMG]

lovely, really beautiful...so smooth, amazing. Congrats!!!

[samuelgodfreygeorge]

Your expression shows considerable skill.

[megansspark]

this is lovely :)

[Theotokos86]

Very nice--I enjoy the images too which are apt, especially the picture of Keats on his deathbead for the line "For to us your hymn fell silent ere its prome." The sonnet simply flows, and is not forced, which Pope might congratulate you on. It is eloquent, yet not forced--true poetry.