MOSCHUS, EPITAPH. BION.
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t is my intention to subjoin to the London edition of this poem acriticism upon the claims of its lamented object to be classed among thewriters of the highest genius who have adorned our age. 15 My knownrepugnance to the narrow principles of taste on which several of hisearlier compositions were modelled proves at least that I am animpartial judge. I consider the fragment of _Hyperion_ as second tonothing that was ever produced by a writer of the same years. 20 John Keats died at Rome of a consumption, in his twenty-fourth year, onthe [23rd] of [February] 1821; and was buried in the romantic and lonelycemetery of the protestants in that city, under the pyramid which is thetomb of Cestius, and the massy walls and towers, now mouldering anddesolate, which formed the circuit of 25 ancient Rome. The cemetery isan open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets anddaisies. It might make one in love with death to think that one shouldbe buried in so sweet a place. 30 The genius of the lamented person to whose memory I have dedicatedthese unworthy verses was not less delicate and fragile than it wasbeautiful; and, where canker-worms abound, what wonder if its youngflower was blighted in the bud? The savage criticism on his _Endymion_which appeared in the _Quarterly Review_ produced the 35 most violenteffect on his susceptible mind. The agitation thus originated ended inthe rupture of a blood-vessel in the lungs; a rapid consumption ensued;and the succeeding acknowledgments, from more candid critics, of thetrue greatness of his powers, were ineffectual to heal the wound thuswantonly inflicted. 40 It may be well said that these wretched men know not what they do.They scatter their insults and their slanders without heed as to whetherthe poisoned shaft lights on a heart made callous by many blows, or one,like Keats's, composed of more penetrable stuff. One of their associatesis, to my knowledge, a most base and unprincipled 45 calumniator. As to_Endymion_, was it a poem, whatever might be its defects, to be treatedcontemptuously by those who had celebrated with various degrees ofcomplacency and panegyric _Paris_, and _Woman_ and _A Syrian Tale_, andMrs. Lefanu, and Mr. Barrett, and Mr. Howard Payne, and a long list ofthe illustrious 50 obscure? Are these the men who, in their venalgood-nature, presumed to draw a parallel between the Rev. Mr. Milman andLord Byron? What gnat did they strain at here, after having swallowedall those camels? Against what woman taken in adultery dares theforemost of these literary prostitutes to cast his opprobrious stone? 55Miserable man! you, one of the meanest, have wantonly defaced one of thenoblest, specimens of the workmanship of God. Nor shall it be yourexcuse that, murderer as you are, you have spoken daggers, but usednone. The circumstances of the closing scene of poor Keats's life were 60 notmade known to me until the Elegy was ready for the press. I am given tounderstand that the wound which his sensitive spirit had received fromthe criticism of _Endymion_ was exasperated by the bitter sense ofunrequited benefits; the poor fellow seems to have been hooted from thestage of life, no less by those on whom 65 he had wasted the promise ofhis genius than those on whom he had lavished his fortune and his care.He was accompanied to Rome, and attended in his last illness, by Mr.Severn, a young artist of the highest promise, who, I have beeninformed, 'almost risked his own life, and sacrificed every prospect tounwearied attendance upon his dying friend.' Had I known thesecircumstances before the completion 70 of my poem, I should have beentempted to add my feeble tribute of applause to the more solidrecompense which the virtuous man finds in the recollection of his ownmotives. Mr. Severn can dispense with a reward from 'such stuff asdreams are made of.' His conduct is a golden augury of the success ofhis future career. 75 May the unextinguished spirit of his illustriousfriend animate the creations of his pencil, and plead against oblivionfor his name!
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