And yet the Evening listens. He who saddens
At thought of idleness cannot be idle,
And he's awake who thinks himself asleep.
Now I am sensible all this is a mere sophistication (however it may neighbour to any truths), to excuse my own indolence--so I will not deceive myself that Man should be equal with Jove--but think himself very well off as a sort of scullion-Mercury, or even a humble Bee. It is no matter whether I am right or wrong, either one way or another, if there is sufficient to lift a little time from your shoulders.
Your affectionate friend John Keats--
Address: Horace Smith Esqre ∣ Knightsbridge
Postmark: HAMPSTEAD; no date.
Hampstead Thursd: Morn.
My dear Sir,
My Brothers are expecting me every day in devonshire, and I have some days work before I can go thither: so I am hardy enough to nullify the day I had expected to pass with you, and trespassing enough to ask your indulgence therefore--
I am being greatly amused with your Poem1--it has a full leven of Wit and imaginative fun. I thank you for it now and will return it to Reynolds. Remember me to Shelley and Kingston.
Your's very sincerely John Keats
Address: Messrs. Keats Teignmouth Dover2
Postmark: not recorded.
My dear Brothers
I am extremely sorry to have given you so much uneasiness by not writing, however you know good news is no news or vice versâ. I do not like to write a short letter to____________________