But though I'll gladly trace these scenes with thee,
Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind,
Whose words are images of thoughts refin'd,
Is my soul's pleasure; and it sure must be
Almost the highest bliss of human-kind,
When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee.

VIII.

TO MY BROTHERS.

SMALL, busy flames play through the fresh laid coals,
And their faint cracklings o'er our silence creep
Like whispers of the household gods that keep
A gentle empire o'er fraternal souls.

And while, for rhymes, I search around the poles,
Your eyes are fix'd, as in poetic sleep,
Upon the lore so voluble and deep,
That aye at fall of night our care condoles.
This is your birth-day Tom, and I rejoice
That thus it passes smoothly, quietly.
Many such eves of gently whisp'ring noise
May we together pass, and calmly try

What are this world's true joys,-ere the great voice,
From its fair face, shall bid our spirits fly.

November 18, 1816.

VIII. In Tom Keats's copy-book this sonnet is headed "Written to his brothe Tom on his Birthday", and dated "Nov. 18, 1816." In the last line the transcrip reads 'place' for 'face'. The sonnet seems to have been originally written pencil in the note-book referred to at page 39, immediately after the sonnet George Keats; but the two quatrains, which fill one page, are all that I found of this sonnet among the Keats relics of Severn. The quatrains stand finally thus in the draft:

Small flames are peeping through the fresh laid coals
And their faint Crackling o'er our Silence creeps
Like Whispers of the Household God that keeps

A gentle empire o'er fraternal souls

And while for Rhymes I search around the Poles
Your Eyes are fixéd as in poetic sleep

Upon the Pages Voluble and deep

That aye at fall of Night our care condoles.
There is a cancelled reading at line 2, unfinished—
With a faint Crackling head distract...

and another at line 5-

And while I am thinking of a Rhyme;

and here 'searching' was substituted for 'thinking of', before the whole was cancelled in favour of the reading of the text.

IX.

KEEN, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there
Among the bushes half leafless, and dry;
The stars look very cold about the sky,
And I have many miles on foot to fare.
Yet feel I little of the cool bleak air,

Or of the dead leaves rustling drearily,
Or of those silver lamps that burn on high,
Or of the distance from home's pleasant lair:
For I am brimfull of the friendliness

That in a little cottage I have found;
Of fair-hair'd Milton's eloquent distress,
And all his love for gentle Lycid drown'd;
Of lovely Laura in her light green dress,
And faithful Petrarch gloriously crown'd.

X.

To one who has been long in city pent,
'Tis very sweet to look into the fair

And open face of heaven,—to breathe a prayer
Full in the smile of the blue firmament.

Who is more happy, when, with heart's content,
Fatigued he sinks into some pleasant lair
Of wavy grass, and reads a debonair

And gentle tale of love and languishment?

IX. Clarke records that this sonnet was written on the occasion of Keats's first 'becoming acquainted with Leigh Hunt at the Cottage in the Vale of Health, Hampstead.

X. In a transcript in the hand-writing of George Keats this sonnet is subscribed as "Written in the Fields-June 1816". The variations shown by this manuscript, no doubt correctly copied from the original, are,-in line 2, 'upon' for 'into'; in line 4 bright' for 'blue'; in line 5 'heart's' is written correctly, though 'hearts' is wrongly printed in the 1817 volume; in line 6 'upon a' for 'into some'; in line 7 some' for 'a'; in line 9 'Returning, thoughtful, homeward' for 'Returning home at evening'; line 11 is

and line 14 is

Following the wafted Cloudlet's light career;

That droppeth through the Æther silently.

In Tom Keats's copy-book the only variation from the printed text of 1817 is in line 4, 'bright' for 'blue'. It is clear the sonnet was carefully revised for the 1817 volume; and it is curious that Keats did not find out his indebtedness to Milton for his "prosperous opening". Compare 'Paradise Lost', IX. 445,

As one who long in populous City pent...

Returning home at evening, with an ear
Catching the notes of Philomel,—an eye
Watching the sailing cloudlet's bright career,
He mourns that day so soon has glided by:
E'en like the passage of an angel's tear

That falls through the clear ether silently.

XI.

ON FIRST LOOKING INTO CHAPMAN'S HOMER.

MUCH have I travell'd in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen ;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told

That deep-brow'd Homer rul'd as his demesne;
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene

Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold :

XI. Charles Cowden Clarke says, in the article in 'The Gentleman's Magazine' referred to at page 43, that this sonnet was sent to him by Keats so as to reach him at 10 o'clock one morning when they two had parted "at day-spring" after a night encounter with a copy of Chapman's Homer belonging to Mr. Alsager of 'The Times'. Mr. Locker-Lampson had an undated manuscript of the sonnet in Keats's writing, headed "On the first looking into Chapman's Homer"; while in Tom Keats's copy-book the heading is "Sonnet on looking into Chapman's Homer", and the date "1816." In that book, though not in the Locker-Lampson manuscript, line 5 opens with 'But' instead of 'Oft'. In the manuscript line 6 originally read 'Which low-brow'd Homer'; but 'deep' is substituted for 'low'; and for line 7 we read both in the manuscript and in the copy-book

Yet could I never judge what men could mean.

In line 11 the autograph manuscript reads 'wond'ring eyes' for 'eagle eyes'. The variation in line 7 is of value in connexion with one of the reminiscences of Clarke, who says the seventh line originally stood thus:

Yet could I never tell what men could mean

and that Keats substituted the reading of the text because he considered the first reading "bald, and too simply wondering". But he may have been actuated by another reason also, as thus: in an article headed "Young Poets" in 'The Examiner' for the 1st of December 1816, Hunt had spoken in high praise of a set of Keats's manuscript poems shown to him, and had printed this one as given in Tom Keats's copy-book, with the remark that it contained "one incorrect rhyme". The only disputable rhyme is that of 'mean' and 'demesne', and that is got rid of by the revision. "The rest of the composition", says Hunt, "with the exception of a little vagueness in calling the regions of poetry 'the realms of gold', we do not hesitate to pronounce excellent, especially the last six lines. The word 'swims' is complete; and the whole conclusion is equally powerful and quiet. He appears to have become reconciled to "the realms of gold" in later years, to judge from the close of that charming work 'Imagination and Fancy'. Speaking of this sonnet he says at page 345 (I quote the third edition, dated 1846),-"'Stared' has been thought by some too violent, but it is

Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He star'd at the Pacific-and all his men
Look'd at each other with a wild surmise-
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

XII.

ON LEAVING SOME FRIENDS AT AN EARLY HOUR.

GIVE me a golden pen, and let me lean

On heap'd up flowers, in regions clear, and far ;
Bring me a tablet whiter than a star,

Or hand of hymning angel, when 't is seen
The silver strings of heavenly harp atween :
And let there glide by many a pearly car,
Pink robes, and wavy hair, and diamond jar,
And half discover'd wings, and glances keen.

precisely the word required by the occasion. The Spaniard was too original and ardent a man either to look, or to affect to look, coldly superior to it. His 'eagle eyes' are from life, as may be seen by Titian's portrait of him." Of the last line, which ends the poetry of Imagination and Fancy', Hunt says "We leave the reader standing upon it, with all the illimitable world of thought and feeling before him, to which his imagination will have been brought, while journeying through these 'realms of gold."

The last four lines seem to be a reminiscence of Robertson's History of America, recorded by Clarke as among Keats's later school reading; but, as Tennyson pointed out to Francis Palgrave ('Golden Treasury', 1861, page 320) the reference should really be to Balboa. From Hunt's remark about the portrait it is clear that this was no mere slip of the pen : Cortez was the man whom Keats's imagination saw in the situation; and it is to be presumed that his memory betrayed him, for it seems unlikely that he met with the story elsewhere, told of Cortez. The passage of Robertson's History of America (Works, edition of 1817) is in Volume VIII, page 287.

"At length the Indians assured them, that from the top of the next mountain they should discover the ocean which was the object of their wishes. When, with infinite toil, they had climbed up the greater part of that steep ascent, Balboa commanded his men to halt, and advanced alone to the summit, that he might be the first who should enjoy a spectacle which he had so long desired. As soon as he beheld the South Sea stretching in endless prospect below him, he fell on his knees, and lifting up his hands to heaven, returned thanks to God, who had conducted him to a discovery so beneficial to his country, and so honourable to himself. His followers, observing his transports of joy, rushed forward to join in his wonder, exultation, and gratitude."

An account of this incident will also be found in Washington Irving's 'Voyages and Discoveries of the Companions of Columbus'.

XII. This sonnet also belongs to the Cottage in the Vale of Health, as we are led to infer from Clarke's mention of it in connexion with No. IX and No. XV.

The while let music wander round my ears,
And as it reaches each delicious ending,

Let me write down a line of glorious tone,
And full of many wonders of the spheres:
For what a height my spirit is contending!
'Tis not content so soon to be alone.

XIII.

ADDRESSED TO HAYDON.

HIGHMINDEDNESS, a jealousy for good,

A loving-kindness for the great man's fame,
Dwells here and there with people of no name,
In noisome alley, and in pathless wood:
And where we think the truth least understood,
Oft may be found a "singleness of aim,”
That ought to frighten into hooded hame
A money-mong'ring, pitiable brood.
How glorious this affection for the cause
Of stedfast genius, toiling gallantly!

What when a stout unbending champion awes
Envy, and Malice to their native sty?
Unnumber'd souls breathe out a still applause,
Proud to behold him in his country's eye.

XIV.

ADDRESSED TO THE SAME.

GREAT spirits now on earth are sojourning;
He of the cloud, the cataract, the lake,
Who on Helvellyn's summit, wide awake,
Catches his freshness from Archangel's wing :
He of the rose, the violet, the spring,

The social smile, the chain for Freedom's sake:
And lo!-whose stedfastness would never take
A meaner sound than Raphael's whispering.

XIII. Benjamin Robert Haydon, historical painter, was born on the 26th of January 1786, and died by his own hand on the 22nd of June 1846. He had considerable influence with Keats in the early days of the period to which this sonnet belongs, and keenly appreciated the young poet's genius. This will be readily discerned by those who read the letters of the two friends in a subsequent volume of this edition of Keats's works.

XIV. This sonnet was not originally written with a short 13th line, but with the line Of mighty workings in some distant Mart?

Haydon suggested the hiatus; and Keats adopted it. In Tom Keats's copy-book the sonnet is headed simply "Sonnet" and is dated 1816 merely. There is no variation from the printed text. It is almost superfluous to identify the two men referred to in the first six lines-Wordsworth and Leigh Hunt.