The Complete Works: Poetry, Plays, Letters and Extensive Biographies - John Keats

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a rock above the spray,

      I saw grow up from the horizon’s brink

      A gallant vessel: soon she seem’d to sink

      Away from me again, as though her course

      Had been resum’d in spite of hindering force–

      So vanish’d: and not long, before arose

      Dark clouds, and muttering of winds morose.

      Old Eolus would stifle his mad spleen,

      But could not: therefore all the billows green

      Toss’d up the silver spume against the clouds.

      The tempest came: I saw that vessel’s shrouds

      In perilous bustle; while upon the deck

      Stood trembling creatures. I beheld the wreck;

      The final gulphing; the poor struggling souls:

      I heard their cries amid loud thunder-rolls.

      O they had all been sav’d but crazed eld

      Annull’d my vigorous cravings: and thus quell’d

      And curb’d, think on’t, O Latmian! did I sit

      Writhing with pity, and a cursing fit

      Against that hell-born Circe. The crew had gone,

      By one and one, to pale oblivion;

      And I was gazing on the surges prone,

      With many a scalding tear and many a groan,

      When at my feet emerg’d an old man’s hand,

      Grasping this scroll, and this same slender wand.

      I knelt with pain–reached out my hand–had grasp’d

      These treasures–touch’d the knuckles–they unclasp’d–

      I caught a finger: but the downward weight

      O’erpowered me–it sank. Then ‘gan abate

      The storm, and through chill aguish gloom outburst

      The comfortable sun. I was athirst

      To search the book, and in the warming air

      Parted its dripping leaves with eager care.

      Strange matters did it treat of, and drew on

      My soul page after page, till well-nigh won

      Into forgetfulness; when, stupefied,

      I read these words, and read again, and tried

      My eyes against the heavens, and read again.

      O what a load of misery and pain

      Each Atlas-line bore off!–a shine of hope

      Came gold around me, cheering me to cope

      Strenuous with hellish tyranny. Attend!

      For thou hast brought their promise to an end.

      “In the wide sea there lives a forlorn wretch,

      Doom’d with enfeebled carcase to outstretch

      His loath’d existence through ten centuries,

      And then to die alone. Who can devise

      A total opposition? No one. So

      One million times ocean must ebb and flow,

      And he oppressed. Yet he shall not die,

      These things accomplish’d:–If he utterly

      Scans all the depths of magic, and expounds

      The meanings of all motions, shapes, and sounds;

      If he explores all forms and substances

      Straight homeward to their symbol-essences;

      He shall not die. Moreover, and in chief,

      He must pursue this task of joy and grief

      Most piously;–all lovers tempest-tost,

      And in the savage overwhelming lost,

      He shall deposit side by side, until

      Time’s creeping shall the dreary space fulfil:

      Which done, and all these labours ripened,

      A youth, by heavenly power lov’d and led,

      Shall stand before him; whom he shall direct

      How to consummate all. The youth elect

      Must do the thing, or both will be destroy’d.”–

      “Then,” cried the young Endymion, overjoy’d,

      “We are twin brothers in this destiny!

      Say, I intreat thee, what achievement high

      Is, in this restless world, for me reserv’d.

      What! if from thee my wandering feet had swerv’d,

      Had we both perish’d?”–”Look!” the sage replied,

      “Dost thou not mark a gleaming through the tide,

      Of divers brilliances? ’tis the edifice

      I told thee of, where lovely Scylla lies;

      And where I have enshrined piously

      All lovers, whom fell storms have doom’d to die

      Throughout my bondage.” Thus discoursing, on

      They went till unobscur’d the porches shone;

      Which hurryingly they gain’d, and enter’d straight.

      Sure never since king Neptune held his state

      Was seen such wonder underneath the stars.

      Turn to some level plain where haughty Mars

      Has legion’d all his battle; and behold

      How every soldier, with firm foot, doth hold

      His even breast: see, many steeled squares,

      And rigid ranks of iron–whence who dares

      One step? Imagine further, line by line,

      These warrior thousands on the field supine:–

      So in that crystal place, in silent rows,

      Poor lovers lay at rest from joys and woes.–

      The stranger from the mountains, breathless, trac’d

      Such thousands of shut eyes in order plac’d;

      Such ranges of white feet, and patient lips

      All ruddy,–for here death no blossom nips.

      He mark’d their brows and foreheads; saw their hair

      Put sleekly on one side with nicest care;

      And each one’s gentle wrists, with reverence,

      Put crosswise to its heart.

      “Let us commence,

      Whisper’d the guide, stuttering with joy, even now.”

      He spake, and, trembling like an aspen-bough,

      Began to tear his scroll in pieces small,

      Uttering the while some mumblings funeral.

      He tore it into pieces small as snow

      That drifts unfeather’d when bleak northerns blow;

      And having done it, took his dark blue cloak

      And bound it round Endymion: then struck

      His wand against the empty air times nine.–

      “What more there is to do, young man, is thine:

      But first a little patience; first undo

      This tangled thread, and wind it

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