There is something divinely romantic about a summer picnic
an afternoon in a country field, a Sunday drive up the coast or to the mountains
in a park by a river, or afloat on a boat
Sure, you can throw some food and drinks in a cooler,
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-browed 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.
“”
The sonnet "On First Looking into Chapman's Homer"
October 1816
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