Explore "Addressed to Benjamin Robert Haydon" by John Keats on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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 steadfastness would never take / A meaner sound than Raphael's whispering.
And other spirits there are standing apart / Upon the forehead of the age to come; / These, these will give the world another heart, / And other pulses. Hear ye not the hum / Of mighty workings in the human mart?
Listen awhile ye nations, and be dumb.
II
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 shame / A money-mong'ring, pitiable brood.
How glorious this affection for the cause / Of steadfast 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.