When I have fears
that I may cease to be
(John Keats)

When I have fears that I may cease to be,
Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain, 

Before high-piled 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.