When I Have Fears

When I have fears that I may cease to be

  Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,

Before high-pilèd books, in charactery,

  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

For similar, check out “Ode on a Grecian Urn”

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