O Chatterton! how very sad thy fate! <br />Dear child of sorrow -- son of misery! <br />How soon the film of death obscur'd that eye, <br />Whence Genius mildly falsh'd, and high debate. <br />How soon that voice, majestic and elate, <br />Melted in dying numbers! Oh! how nigh <br />Was night to thy fair morning. Thou didst die <br />A half-blown flow'ret which cold blasts amate. <br />But this is past: thou art among the stars <br />Of highest heaven: to the rolling spheres <br />Thou sweetly singest: nought thy hymning mars, <br />Above the ingrate world and human fears. <br />On earth the good man base detraction bars <br />From thy fair name, and waters it with tears.<br /><br />John Keats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-to-chatterton/
