'To Apollo', de Keats (Primavera de 1817)

Written after the two preceding poems [On Receiving a Laurel Crown from Leigh Hunt e To The Ladies Who Saw Me Crown'd] as an apology; Woodhouse records that Keats regretted «...the folly of his conduct... he was determined to record it by an apologetic ode to Apollo... He shortly after wrote this fragment» (Woodhouse 2); see also Keat's spring 1817 letter to George Keats, «...I hope Apollo is not angered at my having made a Mockery of him at Hunt's» (L i 170)

in Keats - The Complete Poems.
Londres, 1970: Longman. (Ed.: Miriam Allott)

God of the golden bow,
oooAnd of the golden lyre,
And of the golden hair,
000And of the golden fire,
000000Charioteer
000000Of the patient year,
000Where, where slept thine ire,
When like a blank idiot I put on thy wreath,
000Thy laurel, thy glory,
000The light of thy story?
Or was I a worm, too low-creeping for death?
000O Delphic Apollo!

The Thunderer grasped and grasped,
000The Thunderer frowned and frowned.
The eagle's feathery mane
000For wrath became stiffened. The sound
000000Of breeding thunder
000000Went drowsily under,
000Muttering to be unbound.
Oh, why didst thou pity, and beg for a worm?
000Why touch thy soft lute
000Till the thunder was mute,
Why was I not crushed — such a pitiful germ?
000O Delphic Apollo!

The Pleiades were up,
000Watching the silent air;
The seeds and roots in earth
000Were swelling for summer fare;
000000The ocean, its neighbour,
000000Was at his old labour,
000When who, who did dare
To tie, for a moment, that plant round his brow
000And grin and look proudly,
000And blaspheme so loudly,
And live for that honour, to stoop to thee now?
000O Delphic Apollo!

imagem: Portrait of John Keats in Rome, shortly before his death from tuberculosis in February 1821,
by his friend Joseph Severn, Ashley MS 4165, f.v. Copyright © The British Library Board.