JOST A MON

The idle ramblings of a Jack of some trades, Master of none

Aug 20, 2007

The Boy Who Ran

This excerpt from a marvellous little poem by John Keats has stuck in my head since I first read it over thirty years ago. At first, it was the irregular rhythm that attracted me, but now I find it encapsulates my world-view rather well - the farther you travel, the closer you find yourself to home. Keats, though, seems to have been generally dissatisfied with his time in Scotland.

There was a naughty boy,
And a naughty boy was he,
He ran away to Scotland
The people for to see-
There he found
That the ground
Was as hard,
That a yard
Was as long,
That a song
Was as merry,
That a cherry
Was as red,
That lead
Was as weighty,
That fourscore
Was as eighty,
That a door
Was as wooden
As in England -
So he stood in his shoes
And he wonder'd,
He wonder'd,
He stood in his
Shoes and he wonder'd
.

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