John Keats

(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821 / London, England)

On Hearing The Bag-Pipe And Seeing - Poem by John Keats

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Of late two dainties were before me plac'd
Sweet, holy, pure, sacred and innocent,
From the ninth sphere to me benignly sent
That Gods might know my own particular taste:
First the soft Bag-pipe mourn'd with zealous haste,
The Stranger next with head on bosom bent
Sigh'd; rueful again the piteous Bag-pipe went,
Again the Stranger sighings fresh did waste.
O Bag-pipe thou didst steal my heart away --
O Stranger thou didst re-assert thy sway --
Again thou Stranger gav'st me fresh alarm --
Alas! I could not choose. Ah! my poor heart
Mum chance art thou with both oblig'd to part.


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Poem Edited: Monday, October 31, 2011


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