Verse > Anthologies > James and Mary Ford, eds. > Every Day in the Year
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James and Mary Ford, eds.  Every Day in the Year.  1902.
 
February 23
Keats
By Craven Langstroth Betts (1853–1941)
 
(Died Feb. 23, 1821)

JUST as the earliest flowers began to blow,
(He felt the daisies growing o’er his grave)
His fevered heart found rest; those grasses wave
Unconscious o’er the form that sleeps below;
Yet there the “rathe primroses” surely know,        5
And tender violets (howsoever rave
The rude winds o’er his slumber) that he gave
Them human love in human hearts to grow.
 
His “name was writ in water?” still ’tis called
By every dryad’s ghost that mournful fleets!        10
That name through earth and heaven hath been extolled;
That name the Summer’s requiem repeats;
But he, with charms of Faëry deep enthralled,
Hears no dull earth-tones echoing “where is Keats!”
 
 
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