John Keats

“ The city wall his unhiv’d swarms had cast,
To watch our grand approach, and hail us as we pass’d.
LXXXI.
“As flowers turn their faces to the sun,
So on our flight with hungry eyes they gaze,
And, as we shap’d our course, this, that way run,
With mad-cap pleasure, or hand-clasp’d amaze;
Sweet in the air a mild-ton’d music plays,
And progresses through its own labyrinth;
Buds gather’d from the green spring’s middle-days,
They scatter’d, — daisy, primrose, hyacinth, —
Or round white columns wreath’d from capital to plinth. ”

“ The little Bertha’s eyes ope on the stars serene.”
XLV.
“I can’t say,” said the monarch; “that may be
Just as it happen’d, true or else a bam!
Drink up your brandy, and sit down by me,
Feel, feel my pulse, how much in love I am;
And if your science is not all a sham. ”

“ Befitting best that shade with shade should meet:
Whereat, to calm their fears, he promis’d soon
From mortal tempters all to make retreat, —
Aye, even on the first of the new moon,
An immaterial wife to espouse as heaven’s boon.
IV.
Meantime he sent a fluttering embassy
To Pigmio, of Imaus sovereign,
To half beg, and half demand, respectfully,
The hand of his fair daughter Bellanaine;
An audience had, and speeching done, they gain
Their point, and bring the weeping bride away ”

“ Whose springs of life are all dry’d up and dead,
Whose linsey-woolsey lining hangs all slack,
Whose rug is straw, whose wholeness is a crack;
And evermore thy steps go clatter-clitter;
Whose glass once up can never be got back,
Who prov’st, with jolting arguments and bitter,
That ’tis of modern use to travel in a litter. ”

“ She frown’d; a monstrous owl across us flies
About this time, — a sad old figure of fun;
Bad omen — this new match can’t be a happy one.
LXXIV.
“From two to half-past, dusky way we made,
Above the plains of Gobi, — desert, bleak;
Beheld afar off, in the hooded shade
Of darkness, a great mountain (strange to speak) ,
Spitting, from forth its sulphur-baken peak,
A fan-shap’d burst of blood-red, arrowy fire,
Turban’d with smoke, which still away did reek,
Solid and black from that eternal pyre,
Upon the laden winds that scantly could respire. ”

“ Of lords and ladies, on each hand, make show
Submissive of knee-bent obeisance,
All down the steps; and, as we enter’d, lo!
The strangest sight — the most unlook’d for chance —
All things turn’d topsy-turvy in a devil’s dance. ”

“ That Fate, cross-purposing, should let her be
Ravish’d away far from her dear countree;
That all her feelings should be set at nought,
In trumping up this match so hastily,
With lowland blood; and lowland blood she thought
Poison, as every staunch true-born Imaian ought. ”

“ The Imaian ‘scutcheon bright, — one mouse in argent field.
LXVI.
Gentlemen pensioners next; and after them,
A troop of winged Janizaries flew;
Then slaves, as presents bearing many a gem;
Then twelve physicians fluttering two and two;
And next a chaplain in a cassock new;
Then Lords in waiting; then (what head not reels
For pleasure?) — the fair Princess in full view,
Borne upon wings, — and very pleas’d she feels
To have such splendour dance attendance at her heels. ”

“ He hears a whisper plainer than a rant:
Dry up your tears, and do not look so blue;
He’s Elfinan’s great state-spy militant,
His running, lying, flying foot-man too,–
Dear mistress, let him have no handle against you!
VII.
‘Show him a mouse’s tail, and he will guess,
With metaphysic swiftness, at the mouse;
Show him a garden, and with speed no less,
He’ll surmise sagely of a dwelling house,
And plot, in the same minute, how to chouse
The owner out of it; show him a’ — ‘Peace! ”

“ Louted full low, and hoarsely did him greet:
“Certes, Monsieur were best take to his feet,
Seeing his servant can no further drive
For press of coaches, that to-night here meet,
Many as bees about a straw-capp’d hive,
When first for April honey into faint flowers they dive.” ”

“ At his sweet prose, and, if we can, make dance
His woven periods into careless rhyme;
O, little faery Pegasus! rear — prance —
Trot round the quarto — ordinary time!
March, little Pegasus, with pawing hoof sublime!
LXXII.
Well, let us see, — tenth book and chapter nine, —
Thus Crafticant pursues his diary: —
“‘Twas twelve o’clock at night, the weather fine,
Latitude thirty-six; our scouts descry
A flight of starlings making rapidly
Towards Thibet. Mem.: — birds fly in the night ”