April is National Poetry Month in the United States and Canada, and what better way to start the celebration with a poem from the Mother Country. Our goal is to post at least once a day during April with poems, articles, reviews and a couple of giveaways. (Note that I said goal; I didn’t say absolute commitment.)
To Some Ladies
By John Keats
What though while the wonders of nature exploring,
I cannot your light, mazy footsteps attend;
Nor listen to accents, that almost adoring,
Bless Cynthia’s face, the enthusiast’s friend:
Yet over the steep, whence the mountain stream rushes,
With you, kindest friends, in idea I rove;
Mark the clear tumbling crystal, its passionate gushes,
Its spray that the wild flower kindly bedews.
Why linger you so, the wild labyrinth strolling?
Why breathless, unable your bliss to declare?
Ah! you list to the nightingale’s tender condoling,
Responsive to sylphs, in the moon beamy air.
‘Tis morn, and the flowers with dew are yet drooping,
I see you are treading the verge of the sea:
And now! ah, I see it–you just now are stooping
To pick up the keep-sake intended for me.
If a cherub, on pinions of silver descending,
Had brought me a gem from the fret-work of heaven;
And smiles, with his star-cheering voice sweetly blending,
The blessings of Tighe had melodiously given;
It had not created a warmer emotion
Than the present, fair nymphs, I was blest with from you,
Than the shell, from the bright golden sands of the ocean
Which the emerald waves at your feet gladly threw.
For, indeed, ’tis a sweet and peculiar pleasure,
(And blissful is he who such happiness finds, )
To possess but a span of the hour of leisure,
In elegant, pure, and aerial minds.
From Poems 1817 by John Keats
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- “What the House Knows”: An Anthology by Diane Lockward - June 19, 2025
Maureen Doallas says
I must admit I haven’t read Keats in years. This brought back memories.
Here’s a link to my post on the poetry book giveaways:
http://writingwithoutpaper.blogspot.com/2010/04/poetry-book-give-away-for-national.html
We can never have enough poetry in the world. Ever.
n davis rosback says
i very much enjoyed the poem.
L. L. Barkat says
“why linger you so?”
I love that.
Lingering is a love thing. Yes, yes.
Kathleen says
I read this over, then over again many times – I finally felt it. Heard it. It took some doing, like an exercise. Forgive my shallow brain. I am going to google
‘sylphs’ and “Tighe”.
Poetry muscle building is one exercise I like. I don’t mind having a chubby body or a fat heart (Ps/Proverbs) but, Lord save me from having a flubbery brain.
[huffing] [puffing] [breathing heavy]
L.L. Barkat says
Kathleen, you are so funny. 🙂