Keats: Poems Published in 1820
'there is nothing more awfully simple in diction, more nakedly grand and
moving in sentiment, in Dante, in Chaucer, or in Spenser'--and again,
after an appreciation of _Lamia_, whose fairy splendours are 'for
younger impressibilities', he reverts to them, saying: 'To _us_ an
ounce of feeling is worth a pound of fancy; and therefore we recur
again, with a warmer gratitude, to the story of Isabella and the pot of
basil, and those never-cloying stanzas which we have cited, and which we
think should disarm criticism, if it be not in its nature cruel; if it
would not deny to honey its sweetness, nor to roses redness, nor light
to the stars in Heaven; if it would not bay the moon out of the skies,
rather than acknowledge she is fair.'--_The New Times_, July 19, 1820.
l. 361. _fresh-thrown mould_, a corroboration of her fears. Mr. Colvin
has pointed out how the horror is throughout relieved by the beauty of
the images called up by the similes, e.g. 'a crystal well,' 'a native
lily of the dell.'
l. 370. _Her silk . . . phantasies_, i.e. which she had embroidered
fancifully for him.
PAGE 73. l. 385. _wormy circumstance_, ghastly detail. Keats envies the
un-self-conscious simplicity of the old ballad-writers in treating such
a theme as this, and bids the reader turn to Boccaccio, whose
description of the scene he cannot hope to rival. Boccaccio writes: 'Nor
had she dug long before she found the body of her hapless lover, whereon
as yet there was no trace of corruption or decay; and thus she saw
without any manner of doubt that her vision was true. And so, saddest of
women, knowing that she might not bewail him there, she would gladly, if
she could, have carried away the body and given it more honourable
sepulture elsewhere; but as she might not do so, she took a knife, and,
as best she could, severed the head from the trunk, and wrapped it in a
napkin and laid it in the lap of the maid; and having covered the rest
of the corpse with earth, she left the spot, having been seen by none,
and went home.'
PAGE 74. l. 393. _Persean sword._ The sword of sharpness given to
Perseus by Hermes, with which he cut off the head of the Gorgon Medusa,
a monster with the head of a woman, and snaky locks, the sight of whom
turned those who looked on her into stone. Perseus escaped by looking
only at her reflection in his shield.
l. 406. _chilly_: tears, not passionate, but of cold despair.
PAGE 75. l. 410. _pluck'd in Araby._ Cf. Lady Macbeth, 'All the perfumes
of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand,' _Macbeth_, V. ii. 55.
l. 412. _serpent-pipe_, twisted pipe.
l. 416. _Sweet Basil_, a fragrant aromatic plant.
ll. 417-20. The repetition makes us feel the monotony of her days and
nights of grief.
PAGE 76. l. 432. _leafits_, leaflets, little leaves. An old botanical
term, but obsolete in Keats's time. Coleridge uses it in l. 65 of 'The
Nightingale' in _Lyrical Ballads_. In later editions he altered it to
'leaflets'.
l. 436. _Lethean_, in Hades, the dark underworld of the dead. Compare
the conception of melancholy in the _Ode on Melancholy_, where it is
said to neighbour joy. Contrast Stanza lxi.
l. 439. _cypress_, dark trees which in Italy are always planted in
cemeteries. They stand by Keats's own grave.
PAGE 77. l. 442. _Melpomene_, the Muse of tragedy.
l. 451. _Baaelites of pelf_, worshippers of ill-gotten gains.
l. 453. _elf_, man. The word is used in this sense by Spenser in _The
Faerie Queene_.
PAGE 78. l. 467. _chapel-shrift_, confession. Cf. l. 64.
ll. 469-72. _And when . . . hair._ The pathos of this picture is
intensified by its suggestions of the wife- and mother-hood which Isabel
can now never know. Cf. st. xlvii, where the idea is still more
beautifully suggested.
PAGE 79. l. 475. _vile . . . spot._ The one touch of descriptive
horror--powerful in its reticence.
PAGE 80. l. 489. _on . . . things._ Her love and her hope is with the
dead rather than with the living.
l. 492. _lorn voice._ Cf. st. xxxv. She is approaching her lover. Note
that in each case the metaphor is of a stringed instrument.
l. 493. _Pilgrim in his wanderings._ Cf. st. i, 'a young palmer in
Love's eye.'
l. 503. _burthen_, refrain. Cf. _Tempest_, I. ii. Ariel's songs.
NOTES ON THE EVE OF ST. AGNES.
See Introduction to _Isabella_ and _The Eve of St. Agnes_, p. 212.
St. Agnes was a martyr of the Christian Church who was beheaded just
outside Rome in 304 because she refused to marry a Pagan, holding
herself to be a bride of Christ. She was only 13--so small and slender
that the smallest fetters they could find slipped over her little wrists
and fell to the ground. But they stripped, tortured, and killed her. A
week after her death her parents dreamed that they saw her in glory with
a white lamb, the sign of purity, beside her. Hence she is always
pictured with lambs (as her name signifies), and to the place of her
martyrdom two lambs are yearly taken on the anniversary and blessed.
Then their wool is cut off and woven by the nuns into the archbishop's
cloak, or pallium (see l. 70).
For the legend connected with the Eve of the Saint's anniversary, to
which Keats refers, see st. vi.
_Metre._ That of the _Faerie Queene_.
PAGE 83. ll. 5-6. _told His rosary._ Cf. _Isabella_, ll. 87-8.
l. 8. _without a death._ The 'flight to heaven' obscures the simile of
the incense, and his breath is thought of as a departing soul.
PAGE 84. l. 12. _meagre, barefoot, wan._ Such a compression of a
description into three bare epithets is frequent in Keats's poetry. He
shows his marvellous power in the unerring choice of adjective; and
their enumeration in this way has, from its very simplicity, an
extraordinary force.
l. 15. _purgatorial rails_, rails which enclose them in a place of
torture.
l. 16. _dumb orat'ries._ The transference of the adjective from person
to place helps to give us the mysterious sense of life in inanimate
things. Cf. _Hyperion_, iii. 8; _Ode to a Nightingale_, l. 66.
l. 22. _already . . . rung._ He was dead to the world. But this hint
should also prepare us for the conclusion of the poem.
PAGE 85. l. 31. _'gan to chide._ l. 32. _ready with their pride._ l. 34.
_ever eager-eyed._ l. 36. _with hair . . . breasts._ As if trumpets,
rooms, and carved angels were all alive. See Introduction, p. 212.
l. 37. _argent_, silver. They were all glittering with rich robes and
arms.
PAGE 86. l. 56. _yearning . . . pain_, expressing all the exquisite
beauty and pathos of the music; and moreover seeming to give it
conscious life.
PAGE 87. l. 64. _danc'd_, conveying all her restlessness and impatience
as well as the lightness of her step.
l. 70. _amort_, deadened, dull. Cf. _Taming of the Shrew_, IV. iii. 36,
'What sweeting! all amort.'
l. 71. See note on St. Agnes, p. 224.
l. 77. _Buttress'd from moonlight._ A picture of the castle and of the
night, as well as of Porphyro's position.
PAGE 88. ll. 82 seq. Compare the situation of these lovers with that of
Romeo and Juliet.
l. 90. _beldame_, old woman. Shakespeare generally uses the word in an
uncomplimentary sense--'hag'--but it is not so used here. The word is
used by Spenser in its derivative sense, 'Fair lady,' _Faerie Queene_,
ii. 43.
PAGE 89. l. 110. _Brushing . . . plume._ This line both adds to our
picture of Porphyro and vividly brings before us the character of the
place he was entering--unsuited to the splendid cavalier.
l. 113. _Pale, lattic'd, chill._ Cf. l. 12, note.
l. 115. _by the holy loom_, on which the nuns spin. See l. 71 and note
on St. Agnes, p. 224.
PAGE 90. l. 120. _Thou must . . . sieve._ Supposed to be one of the
commonest signs of supernatural power. Cf. _Macbeth_, I. iii. 8.
l. 133. _brook_, check. An incorrect use of the word, which really means
_bear_ or _permit_.
PAGE 92. ll. 155-6. _churchyard . . . toll._ Unconscious prophecy. Cf.
_The Bedesman_, l. 22.
l. 168. _While . . . coverlet._ All the wonders of Madeline's
imagination.
l. 171. _Since Merlin . . . debt._ Referring to the old legend that
Merlin had for father an incubus or demon, and was himself a demon of
evil, though his innate wickedness was driven out by baptism. Thus his
'debt' to the demon was his existence, which he paid when Vivien
compassed his destruction by means of a spell which he had taught her.
Keats refers to the storm which is said to have raged that night, which
Tennyson also describes in _Merlin and Vivien_. The source whence the
story came to Keats has not been ascertained.
PAGE 93. l. 173. _cates_, provisions. Cf. _Taming of the Shrew_, II. i.
187:--
Kate of Kate Hall--my super-dainty Kate,
For dainties are all cates.
We still use the verb 'to cater' as in l. 177.
l. 174. _tambour frame_, embroidery-frame.
l. 185. _espied_, spying. _Dim_, because it would be from a dark corner;
also the spy would be but dimly visible to her old eyes.
l. 187. _silken . . . chaste._ Cf. ll. 12, 113.
l. 188. _covert_, hiding. Cf. _Isabella_, l. 221.
PAGE 94. l. 198. _fray'd_, frightened.
l. 203. _No uttered . . . betide._ Another of the conditions of the
vision was evidently silence.
PAGE 95. ll. 208 seq. Compare Coleridge's description of Christabel's
room: _Christabel_, i. 175-83.
l. 218. _gules_, blood-red.
PAGE 96. l. 226. _Vespers._ Cf. _Isabella_, l. 21, ll. 226-34. See
Introduction, p. 213.
l. 237. _poppied_, because of the sleep-giving property of the
poppy-heads.
l. 241. _Clasp'd . . . pray._ The sacredness of her beauty is felt here.
_missal_, prayer-book.
PAGE 97. l. 247. _To wake . . . tenderness._ He waited to hear, by the
sound of her breathing, that she was asleep.
l. 250. _Noiseless . . . wilderness._ We picture a man creeping over a
wide plain, fearing that any sound he makes will arouse some wild beast
or other frightful thing.
l. 257. _Morphean._ Morpheus was the god of sleep.
_amulet_, charm.
l. 258. _boisterous . . . festive._ Cf. ll. 12, 112, 187.
l. 261. _and . . . gone._ The cadence of this line is peculiarly adapted
to express a dying-away of sound.
PAGE 98. l. 266. _soother_, sweeter, more delightful. An incorrect use
of the word. Sooth really means truth.
l. 267. _tinct_, flavoured; usually applied to colour, not to taste.
l. 268. _argosy_, merchant-ship. Cf. _Merchant of Venice_, I. i. 9,
'Your argosies with portly sail.'
PAGE 99. l. 287. Before he desired a 'Morphean amulet'; now he wishes to
release his lady's eyes from the charm of sleep.
l. 288. _woofed phantasies._ Fancies confused as woven threads. Cf.
_Isabella_, l. 292.
l. 292. '_La belle . . . mercy._' This stirred Keats's imagination, and
he produced the wonderful, mystic ballad of this title (see p. 213).
l. 296. _affrayed_, frightened. Cf. l. 198.
PAGE 100. ll. 298-9. Cf. Donne's poem, _The Dream_:--
My dream thou brokest not, but continued'st it.
l. 300. _painful change_, his paleness.
l. 311. _pallid, chill, and drear._ Cf. ll. 12, 112, 187, 258.
PAGE 101. l. 323. _Love's alarum_, warning them to speed away.
l. 325. _flaw_, gust of wind. Cf. _Coriolanus_, V. iii. 74; _Hamlet_,
V. i. 239.
l. 333. _unpruned_, not trimmed.
PAGE 102. l. 343. _elfin-storm._ The beldame has suggested that he must
be 'liege-lord of all the elves and fays'.
l. 351. _o'er . . . moors._ A happy suggestion of a warmer clime.
PAGE 103. l. 355. _darkling._ Cf. _King Lear_, I. iv. 237: 'So out went
the candle and we were left darkling.' Cf. _Ode to a Nightingale_, l.
51.
l. 360. _And . . . floor._ There is the very sound of the wind in this
line.
PAGE 104. ll. 375-8. _Angela . . . cold._ The death of these two leaves
us with the thought of a young, bright world for the lovers to enjoy;