Sonnet Xiv. Addressed To The Same (Haydon) - Poem by John Keats

Great spirits now on earth are sojourning; 
He of the cloud, the cataract, the lake, 
Who on Helvellyn's summit, wide awake, 
Catches his freshness from Archangel's wing: 
He of the rose, the violet, the spring, 

The social smile, the chain for Freedom's sake: 
And lo!--whose stedfastness would never take 
A meaner sound than Raphael’s whispering. 
And other spirits there are standing apart 
Upon the forehead of the age to come; 
These, these will give the world another heart, 
And other pulses. Hear ye not the hum 
Of mighty workings?
Listen awhile ye nations, and be dumb.