【正文】 Keats39。s approval to marry depended on his earning as a writer and he started plans with his publisher John Taylor (17811864) for his next volume of poems. At the beginning of 1820 Keats started to show more pronounced signs of the deadly tuberculosis that had killed his mother and brother. After a lung hemorrhage, Keats calmly accepted his fate, and he enjoyed several weeks of respite under Brown39。s death in December of 1818, Keats lived with Brown. Early one morning I was awakened in my bed by a pressure on my hand. It was Keats, who came to tell me his brother was no more. I said nothing, and we both remained silent for awhile, my hand fast locked in his. At length, my thoughts returning from the dead to the living, I said39。 O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed。s body was washed ashore after drowning, a volume of Keats39。I think it would be better.39。 and ultimately his own physical and spiritual suffering in love and illness. Keats lived to see positive reviews of Lamia, even in Blackwood39。s, Richard Monckton Milnes (18091885) wrote Life, Letters, and Literary Remains of John Keats (1848). During his lifetime and since, John Keats inspired numerous other authors, poets, and artists, and remains one of the most widely read and studied 19th century poets. Biography written by C. D. Merriman for Jalic Inc. Copyright Jalic Inc. 2022. All Rights Reserved. Works： 長篇敘事詩 Endymion《恩底彌翁》 。s countenance? More full of visions than a high romance? What, but thee Sleep? Soft closer of our eyes! Low murmurer of tender lullabies! Light hoverer around our happy pillows! Wreather of poppy buds, and weeping willows! Silent entangler of a beauty39。s presence, but must know What 39。d wander In happy silence, like the clear meander Through its lone vales。s hope while yet unblown。 Catch the whitehanded nymphs in shady places, To woo sweet kisses from averted faces, Play with their fingers, touch their shoulders white Into a pretty shrinking with a bite As hard as lips can make it: till agreed, A lovely tale of human life we39。s ridge。 Some looking back, and some with upward gaze。s force They sway39。tis a fairer season。 fine sounds are floating wild About the earth: happy are ye and glad. These things are doubtless: yet in truth we39。 for it feeds upon the burrs, And thorns of life。Twere better far to hide my foolish face? That whining boyhood should with reverence bow Ere the dread thunderbolt could reach? How! If I do hide myself, it sure shall be In the very fane, the light of Poesy: If I do fall, at least I will be laid Beneath the silence of a poplar shade。Tis clear As any thing most true。 The silence when some rhymes are ing out。and the swift bound Of Bacchus from his chariot, when his eye Made Ariadne39。er the sward: One, loveliest, holding her white band toward The dazzling sunrise: two sisters sweet Bending their graceful figures till they meet Over the trippings of a little child: And some are hearing, eagerly, the wild Thrilling liquidity of dewy piping. See, in another picture, nymphs are wiping Cherishingly Diana39。s too, with anxious, pitying eyes, As if he always listened to the sighs Of the goaded world。 and howsoever they be done, I leave them as a father does his son. Ode to a Nightingale《 夜鶯頌 》 My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethewards had sunk: 39。 Fastfading violets covere。 That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim. Fade far away, dissolve, and quite fet What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan。s worn By horrid suffrancemightily forlorn. Petrarch, outstepping from the shady green, Starts at the sight of Laura。 A fold of lawny mantle dabbling swims At the bath39。s neck unseen among the rushes: A lin starting all about the bushes: A butterfly, with golden wings broad parted, Nestling a rose, convuls39。re e, the very pleasant rout: The message certain to be done tomorrow. 39。s crest, Lifted to the white clouds. Therefore should I Be but the essence of deformity, A coward, did my very eyelids wink At speaking out what I have dared to think. Ah! rather let me like a madman run Over some precipice。 And there shall be a kind memorial graven. But oft39。er grew in Paphos, from the bitter weeds Lifts its sweet head into the air, and feeds A silent space with ever sprouting green. All tenderest birds there find a pleasant screen, Creep through the shade with jaunty fluttering, Nibble the little cupped flowers and sing. Then let us clear away the choaking thorns From round its gentle stem。 Mingled indeed with what is sweet and strong, From majesty: but in clear truth the themes Are ugly clubs, the Poets Polyphemes Disturbing the grand sea. A drainless shower Of light is poesy。er us。d! The winds of heaven blew, the ocean roll39。 And now broad wings. Most awfully intent The driver, of those steeds is forward bent, And seems to listen: O that I might know All that he writes with such a hurrying glow. The visions all are fledthe car is fled Into the light of heaven, and in their stead A sense of real things es doubly strong, And, like a muddy stream, would bear along My soul to nothingness: but I will strive Against all doublings, and will keep alive The thought of that same chariot, and the strange Journey it went. Is there so small a range In the present strength of manhood, that the high Imagination cannot freely fly As she was wont of old? prepare her steeds, Paw up against the light, and do strange deeds Upon the clouds