Sweet cherub alighted her cab
Moves stylishly crisp – one to chase
Expensively dressed angel face
Typical beauty beau should grab
Glides across seaside boulevard
Wide eyes stalk slick elegant poise
Completely at ease amongst noise
Imagine, if she parties hard
Started with drinks in Booty’s wine bar
Slight canoodle, nothing heavy
Sly smoking is meat, to gravy
No doubting things would stray too far
Pleated skirt keeps riding higher
Sloppy kisses, well intrusive
Mean secret probes prove conducive
To ignite flagrant desire
Whispers, decidedly frantic
Procrastinate from deep within
Perspiration oozed moist skin
Laboured breath soon turns erratic
Given opportunity knocks
Satisfied smiles divulge a sign
Measured strokes delivered on time
Thrust hard inside her velvet box
Keats unleashed a tirade of judgment against the state, in defence of Leigh Hunt. The sonnet: ‘Written On The Day Leigh Hunt Left Prison,’ is a belated lament by the poet; extolling Hunt’s praises in celebration of his release. The vitriol aimed at the state is pursued, right to the end of the poem, with a subjective monologue targeting the ‘minion of grandeur.’ He intimates, that: far from being disadvantaged, Hunt had used his incarceration to sharpen his intellect and increase intelligence. He had now transformed into a poet of reputable renown. Hunt, in his diligent studies, of great poets, had become one himself – a conviction Keats proceeded to maintain. Hunt’s victory is declared absolute, he had embarrassed the state with his honesty and, non-the- less, had been regarded with imprisonment. The sacrifice had, in turn, ensured Hunt returned victorious because, his literary work had attained a level of sublime genius.
In the sonnet: Keats intimates Hunt could have avoided prison – a mistaken intimation of guilt, in some sense, but the poet is proffering moral and psychological support, to his very much loved friend. Giving a much valued insight, into elusive academic disciplines poets are supposed to homogenise, in order to become literarily successful; Keats eulogises about the level of poetic talent, his great friend had aspired to. Hunt consistently kept company with the great Romantic poets, he was probably well esteemed, as a publisher, but at no time is he reputed to have attained, a significant level of fame and mutual respect – as a poet – amongst his celebrated contemporaries, nevertheless; Keats continued to continually sing his praises. The poem helps to re-engage Keats’ animosity towards state authorities, and institutions. This is a recognised trait in leading Romantic poets: Wordsworth went to war in France, whilst Byron launched an ill-conceived, ill-fated campaign to Greece; probably to exemplify the British state’s ineptitude, in failing to moralize international affairs of conscience. Keats – true to form – vents his anger on the civil authorities; focussing on state institutions. And, he left no conceivable doubt as to, how dear Mr Leigh Hunt was to him.
‘Written On The Day Leigh Hunt Left Prison.’
What though, for showing truth to flattered state,
Kind Hunt was shut in prison, yet has he
In his immortal spirit, been as free
As the sky-searching lark, and as elate.
Minion of grandeur! Think you he did wait?
Think you naught but prison walls he did see,
Till, so unwilling, thou untutnedst the key?
Ah, no! Far happier, nobler was his fate!
In Spenser’s halls he strayed, and bowers fair,
Culling enchanted flowers; and he flew
With daring Milton through the fields of air:
To regions of his own genius true
Took happy flights. Who shall his fame impair
When thou art dead, and all thy wretched crew?