John Keats Poem

SPENSERIAN STANZA

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In after-time, a sage of mickle lore
Yclep’d Typographus, the Giant took.
And did refit his limbs as heretofore,
And made him read in many a learned book.
And into many a lively legend look;
Thereby in goodly themes so training him.
That all his brutishness he quite forsook.
When, meeting Artegall and Talus grim.
The one he struck stone-blind, the other’s eyes wox dim.

On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour
Keen, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there

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