Great master! Boyish, sympathetic man! <br />Whose orbed and ripened genius lightly hung <br />From life's slim, twisted tendril and there swung <br />In crimson-sphered completeness; guardian <br />Of crystal portals through whose openings fan <br />The spiced winds which blew when earth was young, <br />Scattering wreaths of stars, as Jove once flung <br />A golden shower from heights cerulean. <br />Crumbled before thy majesty we bow. <br />Forget thy empurpled state, thy panoply <br />Of greatness, and be merciful and near; <br />A youth who trudged the highroad we tread now <br />Singing the miles behind him; so may we <br />Faint throbbings of thy music overhear.<br /><br />Amy Lowell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-john-keats/
