Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne;
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He star'd at the Pacific—and all his men
Look'd at each other with a wild surmise—
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Note: Not my absolute favorite Keats poem -- neither Endymion nor Lamia are short enough to really post here, and even of his shorter poems, I like a few better, since Keats is one of my all-time favorite poets. But this is a poem about reading a book (specifically what was, at the time, the best English translation of Homer), and I'm a sucker for that topic.