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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420941" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Calidore: A Fragment</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Young Calidore is paddling o'er the lake; <br>His healthful spirit eager and awake <br>To feel the beauty of a silent eve, <br>Which seem'd full loath this happy world to leave; <br>The light dwelt o'er the scene so lingeringly. <br>He bares his forehead to the cool blue sky, <br>And smiles at the far clearness all around, <br>Until his heart is well nigh over wound, <br>And turns for calmness to the pleasant green <br>Of easy slopes, and shadowy trees that lean <br>So elegantly o'er the waters' brim <br>And show their blossoms trim. <br>Scarce can his clear and nimble eye-sight follow <br>The freaks, and dartings of the black-wing'd swallow, <br>Delighting much, to see it half at rest, <br>Dip so refreshingly its wings, and breast <br>'Gainst the smooth surface, and to mark anon, <br>The widening circles into nothing gone. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now the sharp keel of his little boat <br>Comes up with ripple, and with easy float, <br>And glides into a bed of water lillies: <br>Broad leav'd are they and their white canopies <br>Are upward turn'd to catch the heavens' dew. <br>Near to a little island's point they grew; <br>Whence Calidore might have the goodliest view <br>Of this sweet spot of earth. The bowery shore <br>Went off in gentle windings to the hoar <br>And light blue mountains: but no breathing man <br>With a warm heart, and eye prepared to scan <br>Nature's clear beauty, could pass lightly by <br>Objects that look'd out so invitingly <br>On either side. These, gentle Calidore <br>Greeted, as he had known them long before. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sidelong view of swelling leafiness, <br>Which the glad setting sun, in gold doth dress; <br>Whence ever, and anon the jay outsprings, <br>And scales upon the beauty of its wings. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The lonely turret, shatter'd, and outworn, <br>Stands venerably proud; too proud to mourn <br>Its long lost grandeur: fir trees grow around, <br>Aye dropping their hard fruit upon the ground. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The little chapel with the cross above <br>Upholding wreaths of ivy; the white dove, <br>That on the windows spreads his feathers light, <br>And seems from purple clouds to wing its flight. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Green tufted islands casting their soft shades <br>Across the lake; sequester’d leafy glades, <br>That through the dimness of their twilight show <br>Large dock leaves, spiral foxgloves, or the glow <br>Of the wild cat’s eyes, or the silvery stems <br>Of delicate birch trees, or long grass which hems <br>A little brook. The youth had long been viewing <br>These pleasant things, and heaven was bedewing <br>The mountain flowers, when his glad senses caught <br>A trumpet's silver voice. Ah! it was fraught <br>With many joys for him: the warder's ken <br>Had found white coursers prancing in the glen: <br>Friends very dear to him he soon will see; <br>So pushes off his boat most eagerly, <br>And soon upon the lake he skims along, <br>Deaf to the nightingale’s first under-song; <br>Nor minds he the white swans that dream so sweetly: <br>His spirit flies before him so completely. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now he turns a jutting point of land, <br>Whence may be seen the castle gloomy, and grand: <br>Nor will a bee buzz round two swelling peaches, <br>Before the point of his light shallop reaches <br>Those marble steps that through the water dip: <br>Now over them he goes with hasty trip, <br>And scarcely stays to ope the folding doors: <br>Anon he leaps along the oaken floors <br>Of halls and corridors. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Delicious sounds! those little bright-eyed things <br>That float about the air on azure wings, <br>Had been less heartfelt by him than the clang <br>Of clattering hoofs; into the court he sprang, <br>Just as two noble steeds, and palfreys twain, <br>Were slanting out their necks with loosened rein; <br>While from beneath the threat'ning portcullis <br>They brought their happy burthens. What a kiss, <br>What gentle squeeze he gave each lady's hand! <br>How tremblingly their delicate ancles spann’d! <br>Into how sweet a trance his soul was gone, <br>While whisperings of affection <br>Made him delay to let their tender feet <br>Come to the earth; with an incline so sweet <br>From their low palfreys o'er his neck they bent: <br>And whether there were tears of languishment, <br>Or that the evening dew had pearl'd their tresses, <br>He feels a moisture on his cheek, and blesses <br>With lips that tremble, and with glistening eye <br>All the soft luxury <br>That nestled in his arms. A dimpled hand, <br>Fair as some wonder out of fairy land, <br>Hung from his shoulder like the drooping flowers <br>Of whitest Cassia, fresh from summer showers: <br>And this he fondled with his happy cheek <br>As if for joy he would no further seek; <br>When the kind voice of good Sir Clerimond <br>Came to his ear, like something from beyond <br>His present being: so he gently drew <br>His warm arms, thrilling now with pulses new, <br>From their sweet thrall, and forward gently bending, <br>Thank'd heaven that his joy was never ending; <br>While 'gainst his forehead he devoutly press'd <br>A hand heaven made to succour the distress'd; <br>A hand that from the world's bleak promontory <br>Had lifted Calidore for deeds of glory. <br>Amid the pages, and the torches' glare, <br>There stood a knight, patting the flowing hair <br>Of his proud horse's mane: he was withal <br>A man of elegance, and stature tall: <br>So that the waving of his plumes would be <br>High as the berries of a wild ash tree, <br>Or as the winged cap of Mercury. <br>His armour was so dexterously wrought <br>In shape, that sure no living man had thought <br>It hard, and heavy steel: but that indeed <br>It was some glorious form, some splendid weed, <br>In which a spirit new come from the skies <br>Might live, and show itself to human eyes. <br>'Tis the far-fam'd, the brave Sir Gondibert, <br>Said the good man to Calidore alert; <br>While the young warrior with a step of grace <br>Came up,--a courtly smile upon his face, <br>And mailed hand held out, ready to greet <br>The large-eyed wonder, and ambitious heat <br>Of the aspiring boy; who as he led <br>Those smiling ladies, often turned his head <br>To admire the visor arched so gracefully <br>Over a knightly brow; while they went by <br>The lamps that from the high-roof'd hall were pendent, <br>And gave the steel a shining quite transcendent. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Soon in a pleasant chamber they are seated; <br>The sweet-lipp'd ladies have already greeted <br>All the green leaves that round the window clamber, <br>To show their purple stars, and bells of amber. <br>Sir Gondibert has doff'd his shining steel, <br>Gladdening in the free, and airy feel <br>Of a light mantle; and while Clerimond <br>Is looking round about him with a fond, <br>And placid eye, young Calidore is burning <br>To hear of knightly deeds, and gallant spurning <br>Of all unworthiness; and how the strong of arm <br>Kept off dismay, and terror, and alarm <br>From lovely woman: while brimful of this, <br>He gave each damsel's hand so warm a kiss, <br>And had such manly ardour in his eye, <br>That each at other look'd half staringly; <br>And then their features started into smiles <br>Sweet as blue heavens o'er enchanted isles. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Softly the breezes from the forest came, <br>Softly they blew aside the taper's flame; <br>Clear was the song from Philomel's far bower; <br>Grateful the incense from the lime-tree flower; <br>Mysterious, wild, the far-heard trumpet's tone; <br>Lovely the moon in ether, all alone: <br>Sweet too the converse of these happy mortals, <br>As that of busy spirits when the portals <br>Are closing in the west; or that soft humming <br>We hear around when Hesperus is coming. <br>Sweet be their sleep.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Keats">John Keats</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420941" data-title="Calidore: A Fragment de John Keats" data-description="Young Calidore is paddling o'er the lake; 
His healthful spirit eager and awake 
To feel the beauty of a silent eve, 
Which seem'd full loath this happy world to leave; 
The light dwelt o'er the scene so lingeringly. 
He bares his forehead to the ..."></div>
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