Second Tribute to John Keats

Amazing poet...

 

Fair Keats, whose tongue is strewn with tenderness

Whose honeyed words all lilt with sacred joy

As Heaven’s bards, whose swift hands gently stress

A chord or note, and passioned grace employ,

I can’t express how much I always wilt

With happiness and awe, whene’er I read

Your poetry, which lulled and always filled

My heart, once shagged with dying, shriveled weed

With summer’s kiss and spring’s compassion, fair

And dreamy essences, pure censer-wrought

And autumn’s clime and ocean, debonair,

And winter’s winds. The fires of my thought

    Have always fumed as bubbles in the brook

    Whene’er I traced the pages of your book!

Reviews

[Kenaz]

Although Keats was never my favorite I can say that this is a fair tribute to a brilliant poet. Well written

[Gleb Zavlanov]

Thank you. I honestly find the first tribute to be better.