letters on literature-第7节

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preference；　as　fighting　was　never　my　forte；　any　more　than　it　was

Artemus　Ward's。　　At　school　I　was　〃more　remarkable　for　what　I

suffered　than　for　what　I　achieved。〃



Peter　Corcoran　〃fought　nearly　as　soon　as　he　could　walk；〃　wherein　he

resembled　Keats；　and　part　of　his　character　may　even　have　been

borrowed　from　the　author　of　the　〃Ode　to　the　Nightingale。〃　　Peter

fell　in　love；　wrote　poetry；　witnessed　a　〃mill〃　at　the　Fives…Court；

and　became　the　Laureate　of　the　Ring。　　〃He　has　made　a　good　set…to

with　Eales；　Tom　Belcher　（the　monarch　of　the　gloves！）；　and　Turner；

and　it　is　known　that　he　has　parried　the　difficult　and　ravaging　hand

even　of　Randall　himself。〃　　〃The　difficult　and　ravaging　hand〃there

is　a　style　for　you！



Reynolds　has　himself　the　enthusiasm　of　his　hero；　let　us　remember

that　Homer；　Virgil；　and　Theocritus　have　all　described　spirited

rallies　with　admiration　and　good　taste。　　From　his　dissipation　in

cider…cellars　and　coal…holes；　this　rival　of　Tom　and　Jerry　wrote　a

sonnet　that　applies　well　enough　to　Reynolds's　own　career：





〃Were　this　a　feather　from　an　eagle's　wing；

And　thou；　my　tablet　white！　a　marble　tile

Taken　from　ancient　Jove's　majestic　pile　…

And　might　I　dip　my　feather　in　some　spring；

Adown　Mount　Ida　threadlike　wandering：…

And　were　my　thoughts　brought　from　some　starry　isle

In　Heaven's　blue　seaI　then　might　with　a　smile

Write　down　a　hymn　to　fame；　and　proudly　sing！



〃But　I　am　mortal：　　and　I　cannot　write

Aught　that　may　foil　the　fatal　wing　of　Time。

Silent；　I　look　at　Fame：　　I　cannot　climb

To　where　her　Temple　isNot　mine　the　might：…

I　have　some　glimmering　of　what　is　sublime　…

But；　ah！　it　is　a　most　inconstant　light。〃





Keats　might　have　written　this　sonnet　in　a　melancholy　mood。



〃About　this　time　he　（Peter）　wrote　a　slang　description　of　a　fight　he

had　witnessed　to　a　lady。〃　　Unlucky　Peter！　　〃Was　ever　woman　in　this

manner　wooed？〃　　The　lady　〃glanced　her　eye　over　page　after　page　in

hopes　of　meeting　with　something　that　was　intelligible；〃　and　no

wonder　she　did　not　care　for　a　long　letter　〃devoted　to　the　subject　of

a　mill　between　Belasco　and　the　Brummagem　youth。〃　　Peter　was　so　ill…

advised　as　to　appear　before　her　with　glorious　scars；　〃two　black

eyes〃　in　fact；　and　she　〃was　inexorably　cruel。〃　　Peter　did　not

survive　her　disdain。　　〃The　lady　still　lives；　and　is　married〃！　　It　is

ever　thus！



Peter's　published　works　contain　an　American　tragedy。　　Peter　says　he

got　it　from　a　friend；　who　was　sending　him　an　American　copy　of　〃Guy

Mannering〃　〃to　present　to　a　young　lady　who；　strange　to　say；　〃read

books　and　wore　pockets；〃　virtues　unusual　in　the　sex。　　One　of　the

songs　（on　the　delights　of　bull…baiting）　contains　the　most　vigorous

lines　I　have　ever　met；　but　they　are　too　vigorous　for　our　lax　age。

The　tragedy　ends　most　tragically；　and　the　moral　comes　in　〃better

late；〃　says　the　author；　〃than　never。〃　　The　other　poems　are　all　very

lively；　and　very　much　out　of　date。　　Poor　Peter！



Reynolds　was　married　by　1818；　and　it　is　impossible　to　guess　whether

the　poems　of　Peter　Corcoran　did　or　did　not　contain　allusions　to　his

own　more　lucky　love　affair。　　〃Upon　my　soul；〃　writes　Keats；　〃I　have

been　getting　more　and　more　close　to　you　every　day；　ever　since　I　knew

you；　and　now　one　of　the　first　pleasures　I　look　to　is　your　happy

marriage。〃　　Reynolds　was　urging　Keats　to　publish　the　〃Pot　of　Basil〃

〃as　an　answer　to　the　attack　made　on　me　in　Blackwood's　Magazine　and

the　Quarterly　Review。〃



Next　Keats　writes　that　he　himself　〃never　was　in　love；　yet　the　voice

and　shape　of　a　woman　has　haunted　me　these　two　days。〃　　On　September

22；　1819；　Keats　sent　Reynolds　the　〃Ode　to　Autumn；〃　than　which　there

is　no　more　perfect　poem　in　the　language　of　Shakespeare。　　This　was

the　last　of　his　published　letters　to　Reynolds。　　He　was　dying；

haunted　eternally　by　that　woman's　shape　and　voice。



Reynolds's　best…known　book；　if　any　of　them　can　be　said　to　be　known

at　all；　was　published　under　the　name　of　John　Hamilton。　　It　is　〃The

Garden　of　Florence；　and　Other　Poems　〃　（Warren；　London；　1821）。　　There

is　a　dedicationto　his　young　wife。



〃Thou　hast　entreated　me　to　'write　no　more；'〃　and　he；　as　an　elderly

〃man　of　twenty…four；〃　promises　to　obey。　　〃The　lily　and　myself

henceforth　are　two；〃　he　says；　implying　that　he　and　the　lily　have

previously　been　〃one；〃　a　quaint　confession　from　the　poet　of　Peter

Corcoran。　　There　is　something　very　pleasant　in　the　graceful　regret

and　obedience　of　this　farewell　to　the　Muse。　　He　says　to　Mrs。

Reynolds：





〃I　will　not　tell　the　world　that　thou　hast　chid

My　heart　for　worshipping　the　idol　Muse；

That　thy　dark　eye　has　given　its　gentle　lid

Tears　for　my　wanderings；　I　may　not　choose

When　thou　dost　speak　but　do　as　I　am　bid；　…

And　therefore　to　the　roses　and　the　dews；

Very　respectfully　I　make　my　bow；　…

And　turn　my　back　upon　the　tulips　now。〃





〃The　chief　poems　in　the　collection；　taken　from　Boccaccio；　were　to

have　been　associated　with　tales　from　the　same　source；　intended　to

have　been　written　by　a　friend；　but　illness　on　his　part　and

distracting　engagements　on　mine；　prevented　us　from　accomplishing　our

plan　at　the　time；　and　Death　now；　to　my　deep　sorrow；　has　frustrated

it　for　ever！〃



I　cannot　but　quote　what　follows；　the　tribute　to　Keats's　kindness；　to

the　most　endearing　quality　our　nature　possesses；　the　quality　that

was　Scott's　in　such　a　winning　degree；　that　was　so　marked　in　Moliere；



〃He；　who　is　gone；　was　one　of　the　very　kindest　friends　I　ever

possessed；　and　yet　he　was　not　kinder；　perhaps；　to　me　than　to　others。

His　intense　mind　and　powerful　feeling　would；　I　truly　believe；　have

done　the　world　some　service　had　his　life　been　sparedbut　he　was　of

too　sensitive　a　natureand　thus　he　was　destroyed！　　One　story　he

completed；　and　that　is　to　me　now　the　most　pathetic　poem　in

existence。〃



It　was　〃Isabella；　or　the　Pot　of　Basil。〃



The　〃Garden　of　Florence〃　is　written　in　the　couplets　of　〃Endymion；〃

and　is　a　beautiful　version　of　the　tale　once　more　retold　by　Alfred　de

Musset　in　〃Simone。〃　　From　〃The　Romance　of　Youth〃　let　me　quote　one

stanza；　which　applies　to　Keats：





〃He　read　and　dreamt　of　young　Endymion；

Till　his　romantic　fancy　drank　its　fill；

He　saw　that　lovely　shepherd　sitting　lone；

Watching　his　white　flocks　upon　Ida's　hill；

The　Moon　adored　himand　when　all　was　still；

And　stars　were　wakefulshe　would　earthward　stray；

And　linger　with　her　shepherd　love；　until

The　hooves　of　the　steeds　that　bear　the　car　of　day；

Struck　silver　light　in　the　east；　and　then　she　waned　away！〃





It　was　on　Latmos；　not　Ida；　that　Endymion　shepherded　his　flocks；　but

that　is　of　no　moment；　except　to　schoolmasters。　　There　are　other

stanzas　of　Reynolds　worthy　of　Keats；　for　example；　this　on　the　Fairy

Queen：





〃Her　bodice　was　a　pretty　sight　to　see；

Ye　who　would　know　its　colour；be　a　thief

Of　the　rose's　muffled　bud　from　off　the　tree；

And　for　your　knowledge；　strip　it　leaf　by　leaf

Spite　of　your　own　remorse　or　Flora's　grief；

Till　ye　have　come　unto　its　heart's　pale　hue；

The　last；　last　leaf；　which　is　the　queen；the　chief

Of　beautiful　dim　blooms：　　ye　shall　not　rue；

At　sight　of　that　sweet　leaf　the　mischief　which　ye　do。〃





One　does　not　know　when　to　leave　off　gathering　buds　in　the　〃Garden　of

Florence。〃　　Even　after　Shakespeare；　and　after　Keats；　this　passage　on

wild　flowers　has　its　own　charm：





〃We　gathered　wood　flowers；some　blue　as　the　vein

O'er　Hero's　eyelid　stealing；　and　some　as　white；

In　the　clustering　grass；　as　rich　Europa's　hand

Nested　amid　the　curls　on　Jupiter's　forehead；

What　time　he　snatched　her　through　the　startled　waves；　…

Some　poppies；　too；　such　as　in　Enna's　meadows


Forsook　their　own　green　homes　and　parent　stalks；

To　kiss　the　fingers　of　Proserpina：

And　some　were　small　as　fairies'　eyes；　and　bright

As　lovers'　tears！〃





I　wish　I　had　room　for　three　or　four　sonnets；　the　Robin　Hood　sonnets

to　Keats；　and　another　on　a　picture　of　a　lady。　　Excuse　the　length　of

this　letter；　and　read　this：





〃Sorrow　hath　made　thine　eyes　more　dark　and　keen；

And　set　a　whiter　hue　upon　thy　cheeks；　…

And　round　thy　pressed　lips　drawn　anguish…streaks；

And　made　thy　forehead　fearfully　serene。

Even　in　thy　steady　hair　her　work　is　seen；

For　its　still　parted　darknesstill　it　breaks

In　heavy　curls　upon　thy　shouldersspeaks

Like　the　stern　wave；　how　hard　the　storm　hath　been！



〃So　looked　that　hapless　lady　of　the　South；

Sweet　Isabella！　at　that　dreary　part

Of　all　the　passion'd　hours　of　her　youth；

When　her　green　Basil　pot　by　brother's　art

Was　stolen　away；　so　look'd　her　pained　mouth

In　the　mute　patience　of　a　breaking　heart！〃





There　let　us　leave　him；　the　gay　rhymer　of　prize…fighters　and　eminent

personslet　us　leave　him　in　a　serious　hour；　and　with　a　memory　of

Keats。　　｛5｝







ON　VIRGIL







To　Lady　Violet　Lebas。



Dear　Lady　Violet；Who　can　admire　too　much　your　undefeated

resolution　to　admire　only　the　right　things？　　I　wish　I　had　this

respect　for