Thomas Hood

Sonnet – Written in Keats

I saw pale Dian, sitting by the brink 
Of silver falls, the overflow of fountains 
From cloudy steeps; and I grew sad to think 
Endymion's foot was silent on those mountains. 
And he but a hush'd name, that Silence keeps 
In dear remembrance,—lonely, and forlorn, 
Singing it to herself until she weeps 
Tears, that perchance still glisten in the morn:— 
And as I mused, in dull imaginings, 
There came a flash of garments, and I knew 
The awful Muse by her harmonious wings 
Charming the air to music as she flew— 
Anon there rose an echo through the vale 
Gave back Enydmion in a dreamlike tale.