ENDYMION：　A　POETIC　ROMANCE
  by　John　Keats
  PREFACE
  〃The　stretched　metre　of　an　antique　song〃
  INSCRIBED　TO　THE　MEMORY　OF　THOMAS　CHATTERTON
  PREFACE
  KNOWING　within　myself　the　manner　in　which　this　Poem　has　been
  produced；　it　is　not　without　a　feeling　of　regret　that　I　make　it　public。
  What　manner　I　mean；　will　be　quite　clear　to　the　reader；　who　must　soon
  perceive　great　inexperience；　immaturity；　and　every　error　denoting　a
  feverish　attempt；　rather　than　a　deed　accomplished。　The　two　first
  books；　and　indeed　the　two　last；　I　feel　sensible　are　not　of　such
  completion　as　to　warrant　their　passing　the　press；　nor　should　they　if　I
  thought　a　year's　castigation　would　do　them　any　good；…　it　will　not：　the
  foundations　are　too　sandy。　It　is　just　that　this　youngster　should　die
  away：　a　sad　thought　for　me；　if　I　had　not　some　hope　that　while　it　is
  dwindling　I　may　be　plotting；　and　fitting　myself　for　verses　fit　to
  live。
  This　may　be　speaking　too　presumptuously；　and　may　deserve　a
  punishment：　but　no　feeling　man　will　be　forward　to　inflict　it：　he　will
  leave　me　alone；　with　the　conviction　that　there　is　not　fiercer　hell
  than　the　failure　in　a　great　object。　This　is　not　written　with　the
  least　atom　of　purpose　to　forestall　criticisms　of　course；　but　from　the
  desire　I　have　to　conciliate　men　who　are　competent　to　look；　and　who　do
  look　witha　zealous　eye；　to　the　honour　of　English　literature。
  The　imagination　of　a　boy　is　healthy；　and　the　mature　imagination　of　a
  man　is　healthy；　but　there　is　a　space　of　life　between；　in　which　the
  soul　is　in　a　ferment；　the　character　undecided；　the　way　of　life
  uncertain；　the　ambition　thick…sighted：　thence　proceeds　mawkishness；
  and　all　the　thousand　bitters　which　those　men　I　speak　of　must
  necessarily　taste　in　going　over　the　following　pages。
  I　hope　I　have　not　in　too　late　a　day　touched　the　beautiful
  mythology　of　Greece　and　dulled　its　brightness：　for　I　wish　to　try
  once　more；　before　I　bid　it　farewell。
  TEIGNMOUTH；
  April　10；　1818
  BOOK　I。
  A　thing　of　beauty　is　a　joy　for　ever：
  Its　loveliness　increases；　it　will　never
  Pass　into　nothingness；　but　still　will　keep
  A　bower　quiet　for　us；　and　a　sleep
  Full　of　sweet　dreams；　and　health；　and　quiet　breathing。
  Therefore；　on　every　morrow；　are　we　wreathing
  A　flowery　band　to　bind　us　to　the　earth；
  Spite　of　despondence；　of　the　inhuman　dearth
  Of　noble　natures；　of　the　gloomy　days；
  Of　all　the　unhealthy　and　o'er…darkened　ways
  Made　for　our　searching：　yes；　in　spite　of　all；
  Some　shape　of　beauty　moves　away　the　pall
  From　our　dark　spirits。　Such　the　sun；　the　moon；
  Trees　old；　and　young；　sprouting　a　shady　boon
  For　simple　sheep；　and　such　are　daffodils
  With　the　green　world　they　live　in；　and　clear　rills
  That　for　themselves　a　cooling　covert　make
  'Gainst　the　hot　season；　the　mid　forest　brake；
  Rich　with　a　sprinkling　of　fair　musk…rose　blooms：
  And　such　too　is　the　grandeur　of　the　dooms
  We　have　imagined　for　the　mighty　dead；
  All　lovely　tales　that　we　have　heard　or　read：
  An　endless　fountain　of　immortal　drink；
  Pouring　unto　us　from　the　heaven's　brink。
  Nor　do　we　merely　feel　these　essences
  For　one　short　hour；　no；　even　as　the　trees
  That　whisper　round　a　temple　become　soon
  Dear　as　the　temple's　self；　so　does　the　moon；
  The　passion　poesy；　glories　infinite；
  Haunt　us　till　they　become　a　cheering　light
  Unto　our　souls；　and　bound　to　us　so　fast；
  That；　whether　there　be　shine；　or　gloom　o'ercast；
  They　alway　must　be　with　us；　or　we　die。
  Therefore；　'tis　with　full　happiness　that　I
  Will　trace　the　story　of　Endymion。
  The　very　music　of　the　name　has　gone
  Into　my　being；　and　each　pleasant　scene
  Is　growing　fresh　before　me　as　the　green
  Of　our　own　vallies：　so　I　will　begin
  Now　while　I　cannot　hear　the　city's　din；
  Now　while　the　early　budders　are　just　new；
  And　run　in　mazes　of　the　youngest　hue
  About　old　forests；　while　the　willow　trails
  Its　delicate　amber；　and　the　dairy　pails
  Bring　home　increase　of　milk。　And；　as　the　year
  Grows　lush　in　juicy　stalks；　I'll　smoothly　steer
  My　little　boat；　for　many　quiet　hours；
  With　streams　that　deepen　freshly　into　bowers。
  Many　and　many　a　verse　I　hope　to　write；
  Before　the　daisies；　vermeil　rimm'd　and　white；
  Hide　in　deep　herbage；　and　ere　yet　the　bees
  Hum　about　globes　of　clover　and　sweet　peas；
  I　must　be　near　the　middle　of　my　story。
  O　may　no　wintry　season；　bare　and　hoary；
  See　it　half　finish'd：　but　let　Autumn　bold；
  With　universal　tinge　of　sober　gold；
  Be　all　about　me　when　I　make　an　end。
  And　now　at　once；　adventuresome；　I　send
  My　herald　thought　into　a　wilderness：
  There　let　its　trumpet　blow；　and　quickly　dress
  My　uncertain　path　with　green；　that　I　may　speed
  Easily　onward；　thorough　flowers　and　weed。
  Upon　the　sides　of　Latmos　was　outspread
  A　mighty　forest；　for　the　moist　earth　fed
  So　plenteously　all　weed…hidden　roots
  Into　o'er…hanging　boughs；　and　precious　fruits。
  And　it　had　gloomy　shades；　sequestered　deep；
  Where　no　man　went；　and　if　from　shepherd's　keep
  A　lamb　stray'd　far　a…down　those　inmost　glens；
  Never　again　saw　he　the　happy　pens
  Whither　his　brethren；　bleating　with　content；
  Over　the　hills　at　every　nightfall　went。
  Among　the　shepherds；　'twas　believed　ever；
  That　not　one　fleecy　lamb　which　thus　did　sever
  From　the　white　flock；　but　pass'd　unworried
  By　angry　wolf；　or　pard　with　prying　head；
  Until　it　came　to　some　unfooted　plains
  Where　fed　the　herds　of　Pan：　aye　great　his　gains
  Who　thus　one　lamb　did　lose。　Paths　there　were　many；
  Winding　through　palmy　fern；　and　rushes　fenny；
  And　ivy　banks；　all　leading　pleasantly
  To　a　wide　lawn；　whence　one　could　only　see
  Stems　thronging　all　around　between　the　swell
  Of　turf　and　slanting　branches：　who　could　tell
  The　freshness　of　the　space　of　heaven　above；
  Edg'd　round　with　dark　tree　tops？　through　which　a　dove
  Would　often　beat　its　wings；　and　often　too
  A　little　cloud　would　move　across　the　blue。
  Full　in　the　middle　of　this　pleasantness
  There　stood　a　marble　altar；　with　a　tress
  Of　flowers　budded　newly；　and　the　dew
  Had　taken　fairy　phantasies　to　strew
  Daisies　upon　the　sacred　sward　last　eve；
  And　so　the　dawned　light　in　pomp　receive。
  For　'twas　the　morn：　Apollo's　upward　fire
  Made　every　eastern　cloud　a　silvery　pyre
  Of　brightness　so　unsullied；　that　therein
  A　melancholy　spirit　well　might　win
  Oblivion；　and　melt　out　his　essence　fine
  Into　the　winds：　rain…scented　eglantine
  Gave　temperate　sweets　to　that　well…wooing　sun；
  The　lark　was　lost　in　him；　cold　springs　had　run
  To　warm　their　chilliest　bubbles　in　the　grass；
  Man's　voice　was　on　the　mountains；　and　the　mass
  Of　nature's　lives　and　wonders　puls'd　tenfold；
  To　feel　this　sun…rise　and　its　glories　old。
  Now　while　the　silent　workings　of　the　dawn
  Were　busiest；　into　that　self…same　lawn
  All　suddenly；　with　joyful　cries；　there　sped
  A　troop　of　little　children　garlanded；
  Who　gathering　round　the　altar；　seem'd　to　pry
  Earnestly　round　as　wishing　to　espy
  Some　folk　of　holiday：　nor　had　they　waited
  For　many　moments；　ere　their　ears　were　sated
  With　a　faint　breath　of　music；　which　ev'n　then
  Fill'd　out　its　voice；　and　died　away　again。
  Within　a　little　space　again　it　gave
  Its　airy　swellings；　with　a　gentle　wave；
  To　light…hung　leaves；　in　smoothest　echoes　breaking
  Through　copse…clad　vallies；…　ere　their　death；　o'ertaking
  The　surgy　murmurs　of　the　lonely　sea。
  And　now；　as　deep　into　the　wood　as　we
  Might　mark　a　lynx's　eye；　there　glimmered　light
  Fair　faces　and　a　rush　of　garments　white；
  Plainer　and　plainer　showing；　till　at　last
  Into　the　widest　alley　they　all　past；
  Making　directly　for　the　woodland　altar。
  O　kindly　muse！　let　not　my　weak　tongue　faulter
  In　telling　of　this　goodly　company；
  Of　their　old　piety；　and　of　their　glee：
  But　let　a　portion　of　ethereal　dew
  Fall　on　my　head；　and　presently　unmew
  My　soul；　that　I　may　dare；　in　wayfaring；
  To　stammer　where　old　Chaucer　us'd　to　sing。
  Leading　the　way；　young　damsels　danced　along；
  Bearing　the　burden　of　a　shepherd　song；
  Each　having　a　white　wicker　over　brimm'd