On Reading Keats’s ''Ode on a Grecian Urn''
On reading Keats’s “Ode on a Grecian Urn,”
and moved by that sweet, dulcet, deathless ode,
my kindled spirit through his fire doth burn,
and yearns to tread his same resplendent road
of Poesy. Though Keats compels through early death,
his measured music wakes eternal powers
of rhyme and awe. O sanctifying Breath!
his words still bloom—a fragrant choir of flowers.
But poets such as he must soon perish
(too soon!). Yet I receive his mantle; may
his genius fill my soul’s most ardent wish,
to forge such odes as bide the Judgment Day.
These lines shall live if Keats my heart inspire,
for his “Grecian Urn” yet burns with deathless fire.
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