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Bayard Taylor (search for this): chapter 2
Chapter 2: a Keats manuscript Touch it, said Leigh Hunt when he showed Bayard Taylor a lock of brown silky hair, and you will have touched Milton's self. The magic of the lock of hair is akin to that recognized by nomadic and untamed races in anything that has been worn close to the person of a great or fortunate being. Mr. Leland, much reverenced by the gypsies, whose language he speaks and whose lore he knows better than they know it, had a knife about his person which was supposed by them to secure the granting of any request if held in the hand. When he gave it away, it was like the transfer of fairy power to the happy recipient. The same lucky spell is attributed to a piece from the bride's garter, in Normandy, or to pins filched from her dress, in Sussex. For those more cultivated, the charm of this transmitted personality is best embodied in autographs, and the more unstudied and unpremeditated the better. In the case of a poet, nothing can be compared with the int
oet's own mind as of those produced by the criticisms, often dull or ignorant, of his readers; those especially who fail to catch a poet's very finest thought, and persuade him to dilute it a little for their satisfaction. When I pointed out to Browning some rather unfortunate alterations in his later editions, and charged him with having made them to accommodate stupid people, he admitted the charge and promised to alter them back again, although, of course, he never did. But the changes in ann looks and genius, died sadly at the age of seventeen. It is pleasant to think that we have, through the care exercised by this Americanized brother, an opportunity of coming into close touch with the mental processes of that rare genius which first imparted something like actual color to English words. To be brought thus near to Keats suggests that poem by Browning where he compares a moment's interview with one who had seen Shelley to picking up an eagle's feather on a lonely heath. 1896
R. S. Chilton (search for this): chapter 2
chored, motionless, with sails furled, and the same yacht as a winged creature, gliding into port. Let us now see, by actual comparison, how one of Keats's yachts came in. There lies before me a photograph of the first two stanzas of Keats's Ode on Melancholy as they stood when first written. The manuscript page containing them was given to John Howard Payne by George Keats, the poet's brother, who lived for many years at Louisville, Kentucky, and died there; but it now belongs to Mr. R. S. Chilton, United States Consul at Goderich, Ontario, who has kindly given me a photograph of it. The verses are in Keats's well-known and delicate handwriting, and exhibit a series of erasures and substitutions which are now most interesting, inasmuch as the changes in each instance enrich greatly the value of the word-painting. To begin with, the title varies slightly from that now adopted, and reads simply On Melancholy, to which the word Ode is now prefixed by the printers. In the secon
and because it averts the jangle of the closing with the final words fall and all in previous lines. It is a fortunate thing that, in the uncertain destiny of all literary manuscripts, this characteristic document should have been preserved for us. It will be remembered that Keats himself once wrote in a letter that his fondest prayer, next to that for the health of his brother Tom, would be that some child of his brother George should be the first American poet. This letter, printed by Milnes, was written Oct. 29, 1818. George Keats died about 1851, and his youngest daughter, Isabel, who was thought greatly to resemble her uncle John, both in looks and genius, died sadly at the age of seventeen. It is pleasant to think that we have, through the care exercised by this Americanized brother, an opportunity of coming into close touch with the mental processes of that rare genius which first imparted something like actual color to English words. To be brought thus near to Keats sug
John Howard Payne (search for this): chapter 2
as much difference between the final corrected shape and the page showing the gradual changes as between the graceful yacht lying in harbor, anchored, motionless, with sails furled, and the same yacht as a winged creature, gliding into port. Let us now see, by actual comparison, how one of Keats's yachts came in. There lies before me a photograph of the first two stanzas of Keats's Ode on Melancholy as they stood when first written. The manuscript page containing them was given to John Howard Payne by George Keats, the poet's brother, who lived for many years at Louisville, Kentucky, and died there; but it now belongs to Mr. R. S. Chilton, United States Consul at Goderich, Ontario, who has kindly given me a photograph of it. The verses are in Keats's well-known and delicate handwriting, and exhibit a series of erasures and substitutions which are now most interesting, inasmuch as the changes in each instance enrich greatly the value of the word-painting. To begin with, the ti
George Keats (search for this): chapter 2
t. Let us now see, by actual comparison, how one of Keats's yachts came in. There lies before me a photograph of the first two stanzas of Keats's Ode on Melancholy as they stood when first written. The manuscript pageontaining them was given to John Howard Payne by George Keats, the poet's brother, who lived for many years atindly given me a photograph of it. The verses are in Keats's well-known and delicate handwriting, and exhibit athe exhaustive sense of wealth belonging so often to Keats's poetry; and seems to match the full ecstasy of colanges are happily accepted in the common editions of Keats; but these editions make two errors that are correctve been preserved for us. It will be remembered that Keats himself once wrote in a letter that his fondest pray, printed by Milnes, was written Oct. 29, 1818. George Keats died about 1851, and his youngest daughter, Isab color to English words. To be brought thus near to Keats suggests that poem by Browning where he compares a m
iny of all literary manuscripts, this characteristic document should have been preserved for us. It will be remembered that Keats himself once wrote in a letter that his fondest prayer, next to that for the health of his brother Tom, would be that some child of his brother George should be the first American poet. This letter, printed by Milnes, was written Oct. 29, 1818. George Keats died about 1851, and his youngest daughter, Isabel, who was thought greatly to resemble her uncle John, both in looks and genius, died sadly at the age of seventeen. It is pleasant to think that we have, through the care exercised by this Americanized brother, an opportunity of coming into close touch with the mental processes of that rare genius which first imparted something like actual color to English words. To be brought thus near to Keats suggests that poem by Browning where he compares a moment's interview with one who had seen Shelley to picking up an eagle's feather on a lonely heath. 1896
inal words fall and all in previous lines. It is a fortunate thing that, in the uncertain destiny of all literary manuscripts, this characteristic document should have been preserved for us. It will be remembered that Keats himself once wrote in a letter that his fondest prayer, next to that for the health of his brother Tom, would be that some child of his brother George should be the first American poet. This letter, printed by Milnes, was written Oct. 29, 1818. George Keats died about 1851, and his youngest daughter, Isabel, who was thought greatly to resemble her uncle John, both in looks and genius, died sadly at the age of seventeen. It is pleasant to think that we have, through the care exercised by this Americanized brother, an opportunity of coming into close touch with the mental processes of that rare genius which first imparted something like actual color to English words. To be brought thus near to Keats suggests that poem by Browning where he compares a moment's in
October 29th, 1818 AD (search for this): chapter 2
e jangle of the closing with the final words fall and all in previous lines. It is a fortunate thing that, in the uncertain destiny of all literary manuscripts, this characteristic document should have been preserved for us. It will be remembered that Keats himself once wrote in a letter that his fondest prayer, next to that for the health of his brother Tom, would be that some child of his brother George should be the first American poet. This letter, printed by Milnes, was written Oct. 29, 1818. George Keats died about 1851, and his youngest daughter, Isabel, who was thought greatly to resemble her uncle John, both in looks and genius, died sadly at the age of seventeen. It is pleasant to think that we have, through the care exercised by this Americanized brother, an opportunity of coming into close touch with the mental processes of that rare genius which first imparted something like actual color to English words. To be brought thus near to Keats suggests that poem by Brow
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