"A THING of BEAUTY"

 "A THING OF BEAUTY" from Endymion by John Keats (1795-1821)  Considered to be right alongside Lord Byron and Shelley. His brilliant  works were only in publication for  about four years , before he died of tuberculosis at the young age of 21. One of my favourite poets.(excerpts)

Cordelia

 A thing of beauty is a joy forever, its loveliness iccreases, it will never  pass into nothingness.

 A bower quiet for us, and a sleep full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

 On every morrow, are we wreathing a flowery band to bind us to the earth, of noble natures. of the gloomy days.

 Some shape of beauty moves away the pall from our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, trees old and young....

 For simple sheep, and such are daffodils with the green world they live in....

 The mid forest brake, rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms, and such too is the grandeur of the dooms....

 We have imagined for the mighty dead; all the lovely tales that we have heard or read.

 And endless fountain of immortal drink, pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.

 Glories infinite haunt us till they become a cheering light unto our souls, and bound to us so fast.

 Whether there be shine, or gloom, they always must be with us......

 I will trace the story of Endymion. The very music of the name as gone into my being.

 Each pleasant scene is growing fresh before me as the green of our own valleys.

 While the early budders are just new, and run in mazes of the youngest hue about old forests

 As the year grows lush in juicy stalks, I'll smoothly steer  my little boat, for many quiet hours, with streams that deepen freshly into bowers.

 Many and many a verse I hope to write, before the daisies, rimmed and white hide in deep herbage.

 Yet the bees hum about globes of clover and sweet peas................

Bib

 With universal tinge of sober gold, be all about me when I make an end....

 I send my herald thought into a wilderness.......

 There let its trumpet blow...................

Morgan and Spencer

 In Greek mythology, Endymion was very handsome  Aeolian shepherd, beloved of the goddess Selene.This poem is taken from "JOHN KEATS", anthology, published in 1902 by Collier and Sons.

smoky sun

A beautiful thing....

 Have been scouring over some of my oldest poetry books again. This "Treasury of Great Poems" (1942) was one of my mothers. Saved from a church bazaar where it was headed for recycling in 1975. She  penned her name " Nessie" in genteel scrawl on the inside pages, and wrote notes here and there ,in the margins. Wonderful old book. Scribbled on with abandon. She loved the classics, and would read  aloud to me, on hot summer days in the garden.  I think I was bored of it then.....But now, here I am , years later,  devouring Shelley, Emerson and Keats, as if they were  chocolate bars.
      John Keats ( 1795-1821) has been likened to Shakespeare: such a great mastery of the word and imagery. I thought this was lovely to go with  garden images.  Excerpts from  "A Thing of Beauty" by John Keats.

 A thing of beauty is a joy forever; its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.

 A bower quiet for us, and  a sleep full of sweet dreams.....

 Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing a flowery band to bind us to the earth,

 Of noble natures, of the gloomy days, and o'er darkened ways

 Made for our searching; yes, in spite of all,

 Some shape of beauty moves away the pall from our dark spirits.

 Such the sun,the moon,  

trees old and young,

 sprouting a shady boon

 for simple sheep;

 and such are daffodils with the green world they live in;

 and clear rills

 that for themselves a cooling convert make

 make gainst the hot season;

 the mid forest brake,

 Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk rose blooms;

 And such too is the grandeur of the dooms

 We have imagined for the mighty dead

 All lovely tales that we have heard or read

 An endless fountain of immortal drink

 Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink ( from Endymion)

 "I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections and the truth of imagination. What the imagination seizes as beauty must be truth, whether it existed before or not....." (John Keats )

Excerpts from "A Treasury of Great Poems" (1942) by Simon and Schuster
Photographs by Michelle McConachie Woods 2016