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Poem by Amy Lowell

To John Keats

Great master! Boyish, sympathetic man!
Whose orbed and ripened genius lightly hung
From lifes slim, twisted tendril and there swung
In crimson-sphered completeness; guardian
Of crystal portals through whose openings fan
The spiced winds which blew when earth was young,
Scattering wreaths of stars, as Jove once flung
A golden shower from heights cerulean.
Crumbled before thy majesty we bow.
Forget thy empurpled state, thy panoply
Of greatness, and be merciful and near;
A youth who trudged the highroad we tread now
Singing the miles behind him; so may we
Faint throbbings of thy music overhear.

Amy Lowell

Poem Theme: John Keats

Amy Lowell's other poems:
  1. Red Slippers
  2. On Carpaccios Picture: The Dream of St. Ursula
  3. The Fool Errant
  4. Epitaph in a Church-Yard in Charleston, South Carolina
  5. To an Early Daffodil

Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • James Hunt To John Keats ("Tis well you think me truly one of those")

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