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    Lamia
    Lamia
    Lamia
    Ebook30 pages19 minutes

    Lamia

    By John Keats

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Upon a time, before the faery broods
    Drove Nymph and Satyr from the prosperous woods,
    Before King Oberon's bright diadem,
    Sceptre, and mantle, clasp'd with dewy gem,
    Frighted away the Dryads and the Fauns
    From rushes green, and brakes, and cowslip'd lawns,
    The ever-smitten Hermes empty left
    His golden throne, bent warm on amorous theft:
    From high Olympus had he stolen light,
    On this side of Jove's clouds, to escape the sight
    Of his great summoner, and made retreat
    Into a forest on the shores of Crete.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJohn Keats
    Release dateAug 11, 2015
    ISBN9786050404968
    Lamia
    Author

    John Keats

    Born in London in 1795, John Keats is one of the most popular of the Romantic poets of the 19th century. During his short life his work failed to achieve literary acclaim, but after his death in 1821 his literary reputation steadily gained pace, inspiring many subsequent poets and students alike.

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      Book preview

      Lamia - John Keats

      2

      Part 1

      Upon a time, before the faery broods

           Drove Nymph and Satyr from the prosperous woods,

           Before King Oberon's bright diadem,

           Sceptre, and mantle, clasp'd with dewy gem,

           Frighted away the Dryads and the Fauns

           From rushes green, and brakes, and cowslip'd lawns,

           The ever-smitten Hermes empty left

           His golden throne, bent warm on amorous theft:

           From high Olympus had he stolen light,

           On this side of Jove's clouds, to escape the sight

           Of his great summoner, and made retreat

           Into a forest on the shores of Crete.

           For somewhere in that sacred island dwelt

           A nymph, to whom all hoofed Satyrs knelt;

           At whose white feet the languid Tritons poured

           Pearls, while on land they wither'd and adored.

           Fast by the springs where she to bathe was wont,

           And in those meads where sometime she might haunt,

           Were strewn rich gifts, unknown to any Muse,

           Though Fancy's casket were unlock'd to choose.

           Ah, what a world of love was at her feet!

           So Hermes thought, and a celestial heat

           Burnt from his winged heels to either ear,

           That from a whiteness, as the lily clear,

           Blush'd into roses 'mid his golden hair,

           Fallen in jealous curls about his shoulders bare.

           From vale to vale, from wood to wood, he flew,

           Breathing upon the flowers his passion new,

           And wound with many a river to its head,

           To find where this sweet nymph prepar'd her secret bed:

           In vain; the sweet nymph might nowhere be found,

           And so he rested, on the lonely ground,

           Pensive, and full of painful jealousies

           Of the Wood-Gods, and even the very trees.

           There as he

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