Chapter 1404 of 1964 · 63 words · ~1 min read

LX.

John Keats, who was killed off by one critique, Just as he really promised something great, If not intelligible, without Greek Contrived to talk about the gods of late, Much as they might have been supposed to speak.[592] Poor fellow! His was an untoward fate; 'T is strange the mind, that very fiery particle,[lb][593] Should let itself be snuffed out by an article.