GIVE me a golden pen, and let me lean
On heap’d up flowers, in regions clear, and far;
Bring me a tablet whiter than a star,
Or hand of hymning angel, when ’tis seen
The silver strings of heavenly harp atween:
And let there glide by many a pearly car,
Pink robes, and wavy hair, and diamond jar,
And half discovered wings, and glances keen.
The while let music wander round my ears,
And as it reaches each delicious ending,
Let me write down a line of glorious tone,
And full of many wonders of the spheres:
For what a height my spirit is contending!
’Tis not content so soon to be alone.
John Keats 1795 - 1821
I have never been a fan of poetry - I don't really get it. However I keep an antique book of the works of Keats (see photo) next to my bed at all times. I find that I like to dip into it occassionally to get inspiration. I realise this sounds like a bit of an affectation, but I do genuinly enjoy flicking through it.
His writings are thought provoking and very mature, bearing in mind he died at the tender age of 25.
It is also a great shame that his work was widely criticised during his lifetime. It is only since his death that he has been recognised as one of England's finest ever poets.
A bit of trivia. The pen I used for this shot is from my collection of limited edition Parker fountain pens. This one was valued at over £1,000.00 five years ago.