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<meta>

<name>Leigh <index>Hunt</index></name>

</author>

<title>On receiving a crown of ivy from John Keats</title>

<source>Found at <uri>http://www.sonnets.org</uri> and touched up.</source>

</meta>

<line>It is a lofty feeling, yet a <rhyme on="a">kind</rhyme>,</line>

<line>Thus to be topped with leaves; — to have a <rhyme on="b">sense</rhyme></line>

<line>Of honour-shaded thought, — an <rhyme on="b">influence</rhyme></line>

<line>As from great nature's fingers, and be <rhyme on="a">twined</rhyme></line>

</quatrain>

<line>With her old, sacred, verdurous <rhyme on="a">ivy-bind</rhyme>,</line>

<line>As though she hallowed with that sylvan <rhyme on="b">fence</rhyme></line>

<line>A head that bows to her <rhyme on="b">benevolence</rhyme>,</line>

<line>Midst pomp of fancied trumpets in the <rhyme on="a">wind</rhyme>.</line>

</quatrain>

</octave>

<line>It is what's within us crowned. And kind and <rhyme on="c">great</rhyme></line>

<line>Are all the conquering wishes it <rhyme on="d">inspires</rhyme>,</line>

<line>Love of things lasting, love of the tall <rhyme on="e">woods</rhyme>,</line>

<line>Love of love's self, and ardour for a <rhyme on="c">state</rhyme></line>

</quatrain>

<line>Of natural good befitting such <rhyme on="d">desires</rhyme>,</line>

<line>Towns without gain, and hunted <rhyme on="e">solitudes</rhyme>.</line>

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