When I Have Fears That I May Cease to Be...

HEN I have fears that I may cease to be

Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,

Before high-pilèd books, in charact'ry,

Hold like rich garners the full-ripened grain;

When I behold, upon the night's starred face,

Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,

And think that I may never live to trace,

Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;

And when I feel, fair creature of an hour

That I shall never look upon thee more,

Never have relish in the faery power

Of unreflecting love;--then on the shore

Of the wide world I stand alone, and think,

Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.

John Keats Picture: Cavafy's Journal, by Duane Michaels