ORIGINAL PREFACE &c., REJECTED IN FAVOUR OF THE FOREGOING.1 IN a great nation, the work of an individual is of so little importance; his pleadings and excuses are so uninteresting; his "way of life" such a nothing, that a Preface seems a sort of impertinent bow to strangers who care nothing about it. A Preface, however, should be down in so many words; and such a one that by an eye-glance over the type the Reader may catch an idea of an Author's modesty, and non-opinion of himself-which I sincerely hope may be seen in the few lines I have to write, notwithstanding many proverbs of many ages old which men find a great pleasure in receiving as gospel. About a twelvemonth since, I published a little book. of verses; it was read by some dozen of my friends who lik'd it; and some dozen whom I was unacquainted with, who did not. Now, when a dozen human beings are at words with another dozen, it becomes a matter of anxiety to side with one's friends-more especially when excited thereto 1 Reprinted from Lord Houghton's Life and Letters of John Keats, 1867. by a great love of Poetry. I fought under disadvantages. Before I began I had no inward feel of being able to finish; and as I proceeded my steps were all uncertain. So this Poem must rather be considered as an endeavour than a thing accomplished; a poor prologue to what, if I live, I humbly hope to do. In duty to the Public I should have kept it back for a year or two, knowing it to be so faulty: but I really cannot do so,-by repetition my favourite passages sound vapid in my ears, and I would rather redeem myself with a new Poem should this one be found of any interest. I have to apologize to the lovers of simplicity for touching the spell of loneliness that hung about Endymion; if any of my lines plead for me with such people I shall be proud. It has been too much the fashion of late to consider men bigoted and addicted to every word that may chance to escape their lips; now I here declare that I have not any particular affection for any particular phrase, word, or letter in the whole affair. I have written to please myself, and in hopes to please others, and for a love of fame; if I neither please myself, nor others, nor get fame, of what consequence is Phraseology? I would fain escape the bickerings that all Works not exactly in chime bring upon their begetters-but this is not fair to expect, there must be conversation of some sort and to object shows a man's consequence. In case of a London drizzle or a Scotch mist, the following quotation from Marston may perhaps 'stead me as an umbrella for an hour or so: "let it be the curtesy of my peruser rather to pity my self-hindering labours than to malice me." One word more-for we cannot help seeing our own affairs in every point of view-should any one call my dedication to Chatterton affected I answer as followeth: "Were I dead, sir, I should like a Book dedicated to me." TEIGNMOUTH, March 19th, 1818. [Title-Page.] ENDYMION. A ROMANCE. BY JOHN KEATS. "The stretched metre of an antique song.” Shakspeare's Sonnets. INSCRIBED, WITH EVERY FEELING OF PRIDE AND REGRET AND WITH A BOWED MIND," TO THE MEMORY OF THE MOST ENGLISH OF POETS EXCEPT SHAKSPEARE, THOMAS CHATTERTON. |