On Keats

A garden in a garden : a green spot
        Where all is green : most fitting slumber-place
        For the strong man grown weary of a race
Soon over. Unto him a goodly lot
Hath fallen in fertile ground ; there thorns are not,
        But his own daisies ; silence, full of grace,
        Surely hath shed a quiet on his face ;
His earth is but sweet leaves that fall and rot.
What was his record of himself, ere he
        Went from us? ‘Here lies one whose name was writ
        In water.’ While the chilly shadows flit
        Of sweet St. Agnes’ Eve, while basil springs–
        His name, in every humble heart that sings,
Shall be a fountain of love, verily.

Christina Georgina Rossetti. 18 January 1849 (Eve of St. Agnes)


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