Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—
No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.
*
When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,
Before high-pilèd books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
*
The Human Seasons
Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;
There are four seasons in the mind of man:
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
Takes in all beauty with an easy span:
He has his Summer, when luxuriously
Spring’s honied cud of youthful thought he loves
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high
Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves
His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness—to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,
Or else he would forego his mortal nature.
John Keats (October 31, 1795 - February 23, 1821) was an English romantic poet, whose works were inspired by myths, folklore, and legends. He is most well-known for his odes and long narrative poems Endymion, Hyperion, and The Eve of St. Agnes. His writing career may have been short, but he made waves among the literary circles — often garnering more criticism than praise during his lifetime. Undampened by the bad reviews, he continued to write until his worsening health prevented him. He died at the age of 25 from tuberculosis. He is now one of England’s most beloved romantic poets — alongside Wordsworth, Shelley, Coleridge, and Byron. His tragic relationship with Fanny Brawne is depicted with poignant beauty in the 2009 film, Bright Star. I recommend watching in the springtime (but have a box of tissues on hand for the emotional ending).
Further reading:
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/john-keats
https://www.britannica.com/biography/John-Keats/The-year-1819
I remember seeing that movie and really feeling like I understood more about why the name Keats was so important in poetry. I loved the cinematography and how the script was written and handled by the director. I will definitely have to rewatch it as you’ve suggested.🤓👍🏻
I also wonder if you could share your thoughts or understanding on some key lines of the poem that you feel a special connection to or feel they might show special significance for someone who feels a little intimidated by such beautiful writing. (Sorry for the long complicated thought there 🤣) 🤓🫶🏻
Beautiful and yes, Bright Star was/is a wonderful film; bought it sight unseen, think it was my first encounter with the young Ben Wishaw. He does not disappoint as Keats.