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Fancy

Rating: 3.2


Ever let the Fancy roam,
Pleasure never is at home:
At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth,
Like to bubbles when rain pelteth;
Then let winged Fancy wander
Through the thought still spread beyond her:
Open wide the mind's cage-door,
She'll dart forth, and cloudward soar.
O sweet Fancy! let her loose;

Summer's joys are spoilt by use,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
*Ordelia * 17 January 2006

A beautiful poem by Keats, obviously inspired by Milton's poem duo L'Allegro and Il Penseroso. i; m much more inspired by the first stanza than the second, but just like in Milton's duo of poems, this seems to be portraying two different types of fancy for two different types of people. 'These delights if thou canst give, Mirth, with thee I mean to live.' Milton, L'Allegro

5 11 Reply
Herman Chiu 17 January 2010

What more could someone say about pleasure? Fancy that - an explanation of a way of life Keats has thrown out in favor of freedom. Stunning descriptions!

6 7 Reply
Merna Ibrahim 08 June 2010

The poem is brilliant and the rhyme as well! ! I salute you for your perfect poems....

6 7 Reply
Sylva Portoian 19 January 2010

I love Your poems... Keat, but I analyze your poem in 'mine' way, Can you analyze this sentence in your way, please? ' Pleasure never is at Home'

5 6 Reply
Ramesh T A 17 January 2010

The fanciful roaming indeed gives joy of freedom as detailed by Keats! This reminds me of John Milton's L 'Allegro and Il Pensareso making survey of the world in Nature and human life fancifully and philosophically in wonderful immortal poems of all times!

4 7 Reply
Prabir Gayen 21 December 2018

Extremely romantic poem with extraordinary skill and rhythm... Beautifully executed.. Awesome diction.

0 0 Reply
Sagnik Chakraborty 17 January 2015

He died so young, now he is for the ages...

3 2 Reply
Thomas Vaughan Jones 17 January 2014

John Keats 31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821 R.I.P.

6 4 Reply
Karen Sinclair 17 January 2014

It seems Keats was lost in the reality so escaped to nature for frivolous hope.

4 4 Reply
Thomas Vaughan Jones 17 January 2014

At the risk of sounding like a philistine I have to say that this is not one of Keat's finest. It lacks assonance and the rhyme is extremely forced. He might have scribbled this on the back of a Greek Urn while he was waiting for Autumn. Sorry.

5 5 Reply