Sonnet To Chatterton
O Chatterton! how very sad thy fate!
Dear child of sorrow -- son of misery!
How soon the film of death obscur'd that eye,
Whence Genius mildly falsh'd, and high debate.
How soon that voice, majestic and elate,
Melted in dying numbers! Oh! how nigh
Was night to thy fair morning. Thou didst die
A half-blown flow'ret which cold blasts amate.
But this is past: thou art among the stars
Of highest heaven: to the rolling spheres
Thou sweetly singest: nought thy hymning mars,
Above the ingrate world and human fears.
On earth the good man base detraction bars
From thy fair name, and waters it with tears.
John Keats's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Sonnet To Chatterton by John Keats )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 February 1970-)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
William Ernest Henley
(1849 - 1902)
(22 March 1941 -)
Poem of the Day
- आना जाना ऐसा समा, Dr. Ravipal Bharshankar
- The Dark of Night, Marissa Wheeler
- a tortured yellow smile, Mandolyn ...
- जाने तु और जानू मै, Dr. Ravipal Bharshankar
- Kofi Awoonor, Richard Blay
- तु ही खयाल कर, Dr. Ravipal Bharshankar
- गीतकार हूँ मै, Dr. Ravipal Bharshankar
- समर्पण, Dr. Ravipal Bharshankar
- 'Invictus' Invalid, Frank Avon
- धुन सवार ले, Dr. Ravipal Bharshankar