Explore "To Haydon" by John Keats on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Haydon! forgive me that I cannot speak / Definitively of these mighty things; / Forgive me, that I have not Eagle's wings --
That what I want I know not where to seek:
And think that I would not be over meek, / In rolling out upfollow'd thunderings, / Even to the steep of Heliconian springs, / Were I of ample strength for such a freak --
Think too, that all those numbers should be thine; / Whose else? In this who touch thy vesture's hem?
For when men star'd at what was most divine / With browless idiotism -- o'erwise phlegm --
Thou hadst beheld the Hesperean shine / Of their star in the East, and gone to worship them.