Five English Poets: John Keats

The weltering London ways where children weep
And girls whom none call maidens laugh,--strange road
Miring his outward steps, who inly trode
The bright Castalian brink and Latmos' steep:--
Even such his life's cross-paths; till deathly deep
He toiled through sands of Lethe; and long pain,
Weary with labour spurned and love found vain,
In dead Rome's sheltering shadow wrapped his sleep.

O pang-dowered Poet, whose reverberant lips
And heart-strung lyre awoke the Moon's eclipse,--
Thou whom the daisies glory in growing o'er,--
Their fragrance clings around thy name, not writ
But rumour'd in water, while the fame of it
Along Time's flood goes echoing evermore.