Ode to a Nightingale, John Keats

Midsummer Eve Edward Robert Hughes 1908

Away! away! for I will fly to thee,

         Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,

But on the viewless wings of Poesy,

         Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:

Already with thee! tender is the night,

         And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,

                Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays;

                        But here there is no light,

         Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown

                Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.

I couldn't let the day pass without revisiting my favourite John Keats poem, Ode to a Nightingale. It always makes me think of a beautiful summer night. Today marks the bicentenary of his death in 1821. He was only 25. In my chapbook I include a poem called John Keats' Ghost but here I'm going to add another he inspired, which appeared in Skylight 47.