To Spenser

John Keats(1795–1821)

The complete poetical works and letters of John Keats, 1818

Spenser! a jealous honourer of thine,A forester deep in thy midmost trees,Did last eve ask my promise to refineSome English that might strive thine ear to please.But Elfin Poet, 't is impossibleFor an inhabitant of wintry earthTo rise like Phœbus with a golden quillFire-wing'd and make a morning in his mirth.It is impossible to escape from toilO' the sudden and receive thy spiriting:The flower must drink the nature of the soilBefore it can put forth its blossoming:Be with me in the summer days, and IWill for thine honour and his pleasure try.

From The complete poetical works and letters of John Keats (1818), via the English Wikisource transcription.

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