To John Keats ,Poet .
At Spring Time *
(For Carlvan Vechten )
I CAN NOT hold my peace ,John Keats ,
There never was a spring like this :
It is an echo ,that repeats
My last year’s song and next year’s bliss
I know ,in spite of all men say
Of Beauty ,you have felt her most .
Yea ,even in your grave her way
Is laid .Poor ,troubled ,lyric ghost ,
Spring never was so fair and dear
As Beauty makes her seen this year .
