Stand forth,John Keats! On earth thou knew'st me not; br Steadfast through all the storms of passion,thou, br True to thy muse,and virgin to thy vow; br Resigned,if name with ashes were forgot, br So thou one arrow in the gold had'st shot! br I never placed my laurel on thy brow, br But on thy name I come to lay it now, br When thy bones wither in the earthly plot. br Fame is my name. I dwell among the clouds, br Being immortal,and the wreath I bring br Itself is Immortality. The sweets br Of earth I know not,more the pains,but wing br In mine own ether,with the crownéd crowds br Born of the centuries.