John Keats,
Letter to George and Georgiana Keats
“ Child no more But a Poet evermore See, See the Lyre, the Lyre In a flame of fire Upon the little cradle's top Flaring, flaring, flaring Past the eyesight's bearing - Awake it from its sleep And see if it can keep Its eyes upon the blaze. Amaze! Amaze! It stares, it stares, it stares It dares what no one dares If lifts its little hand into the flame Unharm'd, and on the strings Paddles a little tune and sings With dumb endeavour sweetly! ”
