Headaches, Strawberries, and Keats
I came home with a headache today, crawled in bed, and slept.
Since waking up about three hours ago, I've been overdosing on Keats. I don't know why. It started with finding a link to Edwin Morgan's "Strawberries" while digging up my link to Bing Translators and went from there.
I still think "I Stood Tip-Toe Upon a Hill" is one of my all-time favorite Keats poems. Tonight in particular I'm drawn to the lines:
Thee must I praise above all other glories
That smile us on to tell delightful stories.
For what has made the sage or poet write
But the fair paradise of Nature’s light?
In the calm grandeur of a sober line,
We see the waving of the mountain pine;
And when a tale is beautifully staid,
We feel the safety of a hawthorn glade:
When it is moving on luxurious wings,
The soul is lost in pleasant smotherings:
Fair dewy roses brush against our faces,
And flowering laurels spring from diamond vases;
O’erhead we see the jasmine and sweet briar,
And bloomy grapes laughing from green attire;
While at our feet, the voice of crystal bubbles
Charms us at once away from all our troubles:
So that we feel uplifted from the world,
Walking upon the white clouds wreath’d and curl’d.
Reminds me why I write, reminds me why I RP, reminds me why I read. Reminds me why I love words and language and all that can be accomplished with them. Reminds me why I love Keats, too.
EDIT: And this poem reminds me of a certain fellow from Strange Brew *nudges legal_padawan*
Since waking up about three hours ago, I've been overdosing on Keats. I don't know why. It started with finding a link to Edwin Morgan's "Strawberries" while digging up my link to Bing Translators and went from there.
I still think "I Stood Tip-Toe Upon a Hill" is one of my all-time favorite Keats poems. Tonight in particular I'm drawn to the lines:
Thee must I praise above all other glories
That smile us on to tell delightful stories.
For what has made the sage or poet write
But the fair paradise of Nature’s light?
In the calm grandeur of a sober line,
We see the waving of the mountain pine;
And when a tale is beautifully staid,
We feel the safety of a hawthorn glade:
When it is moving on luxurious wings,
The soul is lost in pleasant smotherings:
Fair dewy roses brush against our faces,
And flowering laurels spring from diamond vases;
O’erhead we see the jasmine and sweet briar,
And bloomy grapes laughing from green attire;
While at our feet, the voice of crystal bubbles
Charms us at once away from all our troubles:
So that we feel uplifted from the world,
Walking upon the white clouds wreath’d and curl’d.
Reminds me why I write, reminds me why I RP, reminds me why I read. Reminds me why I love words and language and all that can be accomplished with them. Reminds me why I love Keats, too.
EDIT: And this poem reminds me of a certain fellow from Strange Brew *nudges legal_padawan*