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John Keats compressed into a few months what most poets spend decades attempting. Between January and September of 1819, still in his early twenties, he produced Ode to a Nightingale, Ode on a Grecian Urn, To Autumn, The Eve of St.

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  1. Ode To Psyche
  2. Ode To A Nightingale
  3. Ode On A Grecian Urn
  4. Ode On Melancholy
  5. Ode On Indolence
  6. To Autumn
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You are here: Home » British/American Poets » John Keats » Fancy


John Keats

John Keats

Fancy

Ever let the Fancy roam,
Pleasure never is at home:
At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth,
Like to bubbles when rain pelteth;
Then let winged Fancy wander
Through the thought still spread beyond her:
Open wide the mind's cage-door,
She'll dart forth, and cloudward soar.
O sweet Fancy! let her loose;
Summer's joys are spoilt by use,
And the enjoying of the Spring
Fades as does its blossoming;
Autumn's red-lipp'd fruitage too,
Blushing through the mist and dew,
Cloys with tasting: What do then?
Sit thee by the ingle, when
The sear faggot blazes bright,
Spirit of a winter's night;
When the soundless earth is muffled,
And the caked snow is shuffled
From the ploughboy's heavy shoon;
When the Night doth meet the Noon
In a dark conspiracy
To banish Even from her sky.
Sit thee there, and send abroad,
With a mind self-overaw'd,
Fancy, high-commission'd:--send her!
She has vassals to attend her:
She will bring, in spite of frost,
Beauties that the earth hath lost;
She will bring thee, all together,
All delights of summer weather;
All the buds and bells of May,
From dewy sward or thorny spray
All the heaped Autumn's wealth,
With a still, mysterious stealth:
She will mix these pleasures up
Like three fit wines in a cup,
And thou shalt quaff it:--thou shalt hear
Distant harvest-carols clear;
Rustle of the reaped corn;
Sweet birds antheming the morn:
And, in the same moment--hark!
'Tis the early April lark,
Or the rooks, with busy caw,
Foraging for sticks and straw.
Thou shalt, at one glance, behold
The daisy and the marigold;
White-plum'd lilies, and the first
Hedge-grown primrose that hath burst;
Shaded hyacinth, alway
Sapphire queen of the mid-May;
And every leaf, and every flower
Pearled with the self-same shower.
Thou shalt see the field-mouse peep
Meagre from its celled sleep;
And the snake all winter-thin
Cast on sunny bank its skin;
Freckled nest-eggs thou shalt see
Hatching in the hawthorn-tree,
When the hen-bird's wing doth rest
Quiet on her mossy nest;
Then the hurry and alarm
When the bee-hive casts its swarm;
Acorns ripe down-pattering,
While the autumn breezes sing.
Oh, sweet Fancy! let her loose;
Every thing is spoilt by use:
Where's the cheek that doth not fade,
Too much gaz'd at? Where's the maid
Whose lip mature is ever new?
Where's the eye, however blue,
Doth not weary? Where's the face
One would meet in every place?
Where's the voice, however soft,
One would hear so very oft?
At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth
Like to bubbles when rain pelteth.
Let, then, winged Fancy find
Thee a mistress to thy mind:
Dulcet-eyed as Ceres' daughter,
Ere the God of Torment taught her
How to frown and how to chide;
With a waist and with a side
White as Hebe's, when her zone
Slipt its golden clasp, and down
Fell her kirtle to her feet,
While she held the goblet sweet,
And Jove grew languid.--Break the mesh
Of the Fancy's silken leash;
Quickly break her prison-string
And such joys as these she'll bring.--
Let the winged Fancy roam
Pleasure never is at home.

More by John Keats

  1. Ode To Psyche
  2. Ode To A Nightingale
  3. Ode On A Grecian Urn
  4. Ode On Melancholy
  5. Ode On Indolence

Literary Commentary

"Fancy" is a 94-line poem by John Keats, written at Wentworth Place in late 1818 and sent to his brother George on January 2, 1819. Published in the 1820 volume, it argues a simple, stubborn case: ordinary pleasure fades on contact ("Pleasure never is at home"), and only imagination, kept unowned, can summon delight and hold it fresh.

The poem's chief move is a seasonal inventory summoned out of a winter night. Keats seats his reader by the fire — "when the sear faggot blazes bright" — and sends Fancy out to retrieve what the season has withdrawn: the buds and bells of May, the field-mouse blinking from its celled sleep, the bee-hive casting its swarm. The images arrive without regard for their real-world order. Fancy "will mix these pleasures up / Like three fit wines in a cup," and Keats's point is that only this mixture, not the calendar-bound experience of any one of them, keeps its savour.

The second movement turns from landscape to a classical mistress: a beauty like Proserpine before Pluto's "torment," like Hebe the moment before her zone slips. What the poem admires is the unpossessed, pre-contact image. Its closing imperative, "Break the mesh / Of the Fancy's silken leash," is odd enough to be worth pausing over. Keats doesn't ask for more Fancy; he asks that it stay loose. "Fancy" is lighter than the Great Odes that would follow in spring 1819, but its core wager — that imagination is a curator, not a consumer — recurs across the ode sequence.

Key themes

  • imagination as seasonal compositor
  • the economy of pleasure and possession
  • winter as the mind's opportunity
  • classical figures as emblems of preserved freshness
  • the freedom of the unfixed image

Notable craft elements

  • Miltonic tetrameter couplets with headless seven-syllable variants
  • refrain structure that opens and closes the poem
  • inventory rhetoric piled into a single summoning
  • imperative mood directing the reader to perform the experiment

Reread prompt

On a second reading, notice how Keats's commands to Fancy shift from invitation ("let her loose") to warning ("break her prison-string"). What does this arc suggest about his trust in the faculty he is recommending?

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