'In spite of his transcendent genius, Keats never was, nor ever will be,
a popular poet; and the total neglect and obscurity in which the
astonishing remains of his mind still lie was hardly to be dissipated by
a writer who, however he may differ from Keats in more important
qualities, at least resembles him in that accidental one, a want of
popularity.
'I have little hope therefore that the poem I send you will excite any
attention, nor do I feel assured that a critical notice of his writings
would find a single reader. But for these considerations, it had been my
intention to have collected the remnants of his compositions, and to
have published them with a Life and criticism. Has he left any poems or
writings of whatsoever kind, and in whose possession are they? Perhaps
you would oblige me by information on this point.
'Many thanks for the picture you promise me [presumably a portrait of
Keats, but Shelley does not seem ever to have received one from Severn]:
I shall consider it among the most sacred relics of the past. For my
part, I little expected, when I last saw Keats at my friend Leigh
Hunt's, that I should survive him.
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