When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,
Before high-pilèd books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink. -John Keats
Robert Rauschenberg canvas
Robert Rauschenberg canvas
Beautiful!!!
ReplyDeleteEVERY DELIGHTFUL ARTICLE. KEATS ON THE PALLET OF CONVERSATION-LIFE AND POETRY - FEW HERE IN SOUTHERN USA LIKE-SORT OF WONDERMENT-LANGUAGE AND ART ALL IN HOUSE DESCRIPTIONS OF LITTLE AUGURY-ATK
ReplyDeleteYes, to be reminded. Thank you. xoxo Mary
ReplyDeleteBeautiful! And your post on BC was fabulous. She was a friend of my mother's! Love keeping up with your posts, Jamie Herzlinger
ReplyDelete"to trace / Their shadows with the magic hand of chance," is just an extraordinary confession of those unexpected felicities that come to one's own hand without one's preconception. They did seem to favor him if that's true; and if it isn't, how well he does conceal the art.
ReplyDeleteA highly apposite moment to revisit this entry today, as I think about the few 8 years of rmbl, to be completed this coming Sunday. One has to admire his awareness as a vessel, as the brilliance of his control.
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