Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Hyperion: Book II

Scarce images of life, one here, one there,
Lay vast and edgeways; like a dismal cirque
Of Druid stones, upon a forlorn moor,
When the chill rain begins at shut of eve,
In dull November, and their chancel vault,
The Heaven itself, is blinded throughout night.
Each one kept shroud, nor to his neighbour gave
Or word, or look, or action of despair.

John Keats

1 comment:

Littlestone said...

The 'dismal circle' that Keats is writing about here is Castlerigg in Cumbria.