London, November 20, 1816.

My dear Sir--Last evening wrought me up, and I cannot forbear sending you the following--

Yours unfeignedly,

JOHN KEATS.

Removed to 76 Cheapside.

Great spirits now on earth are sojourning; He of the cloud, the cataract, the lake, Who on Helvellyn's summit, wide awake, Catches his freshness from Archangel's wing: He of the rose, the violet, the spring, The social smile, the chain for Freedom's sake: And lo!--whose stedfastness would never take A meaner sound than Raphael's whispering. And other spirits there are standing apart Upon the forehead of the age to come; These, these will give the world another heart, And other pulses. Hear ye not the hum Of mighty workings in the human mart? Listen awhile ye nations, and be dumb.