Mapping Keats’s Progress: A Critical Chronology

Mapping Keats’s Progress
A Critical Chronology

On Receiving a Curious Shell, and a Copy of Verses, from the Same Ladies

  • Hast thou from the caves of Golconda, a gem
  • Pure as the ice-drop that froze on the mountain?
  • Bright as the humming-bird’s green diadem,
  • When it flutters in sun-beams that shine through a fountain?
  • Hast thou a goblet for dark sparkling wine?
  • That goblet right heavy, and massy, and gold?
  • And splendidly mark’d with the story divine
  • Of Armida the fair, and Rinaldo the bold?
  • Hast thou a steed with a mane richly flowing?
  • Hast thou a sword that thine enemy’s smart is?
  • Hast thou a trumpet rich melodies blowing?
  • And wear’st thou the shield of the fam’d Britomartis?
  • What is it that hangs from thy shoulder, so brave,
  • Embroidered with many a spring-peering flower?
  • Is it a scarf that thy fair lady gave?
  • And hastest thou now to that fair lady’s bower?
  • Ah! courteous Sir Knight, with large joy thou art crown’d;
  • Full many the glories that brighten thy youth!
  • I will tell thee my blisses, which richly abound
  • In magical powers to bless, and to sooth.
  • On this scroll thou seest written in characters fair
  • A sun-beamy tale of a wreath, and a chain;
  • And, warrior, it nurtures the property rare
  • Of charming my mind from the trammels of pain.
  • This canopy mark: ’tis the work of a fay;
  • Beneath its rich shade did King Oberon languish,
  • When lovely Titania was far, far away,
  • And cruelly left him to sorrow, and anguish.
  • There, oft would he bring from his soft sighing lute
  • Wild strains to which, spell-bound, the nightingales listened;
  • The wondering spirits of heaven were mute,
  • And tears ’mong the dewdrops of morning oft glistened.
  • In this little dome, all those melodies strange,
  • Soft, plaintive, and melting, for ever will sigh;
  • Nor e’er will the notes from their tenderness change;
  • Nor e’er will the music of Oberon die.
  • So, when I am in a voluptuous vein,
  • I pillow my head on the sweets of the rose,
  • And list to the tale of the wreath, and the chain,
  • Till its echoes depart; then I sink to repose.
  • Adieu, valiant Eric! with joy thou art crown’d;
  • Full many the glories that brighten thy youth,
  • I too have my blisses, which richly abound
  • In magical powers, to bless and to sooth.

🗙 Cite this page:

MLA Style: Works Cited

Keats, John. “On Receiving a Curious Shell, and a Copy of Verses, from the Same Ladies.” Mapping Keats’s Progress: A Critical Chronology, by G. Kim Blank. Edition 3.3 , University of Victoria, 5 September 2020. https://johnkeats.uvic.ca/poem_on_receiving_a_curious_shell_and.html.

Chicago Style: Note

John Keats, “On Receiving a Curious Shell, and a Copy of Verses, from the Same Ladies,” Mapping Keats’s Progress: A Critical Chronology, Edition 3.3 , last modified 5th September 2020. https://johnkeats.uvic.ca/poem_on_receiving_a_curious_shell_and.html.

Chicago Style: Bibliography

Keats, John. “On Receiving a Curious Shell, and a Copy of Verses, from the Same Ladies.” Mapping Keats’s Progress: A Critical Chronology, Edition 3.3 , last modified 5th September 2020. https://johnkeats.uvic.ca/poem_on_receiving_a_curious_shell_and.html.