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- 1816
- SPENSER! A JEALOUS HONOURER OF THINE
- by John Keats
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- Spenser! a jealous honourer of thine,
- A forester deep in thy midmost trees,
- Did last eve ask my promise to refine
- Some English that might strive thine ear to please.
- But, Elfin Poet, 'tis impossible
- For an inhabitant of wintry earth
- To rise like Phoebus with a golden quill
- Fire-wing'd and make a morning in his mirth.
- It is impossible to escape from toil
- O' the sudden and receive thy spiriting;
- The flower must drink the nature of the soil
- Before it can put forth its blossoming;
- Be with me in the summer days, and I
- Will for thine honour and his pleasure try.
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- THE END
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