Sonnet XVI: To Kosciusko

by John Keats

    Good Kosciusko, thy great name alone
    Is a full harvest whence to reap high feeling;
    It comes upon us like the glorious pealing
    Of the wide spheres, an everlasting tone.
    And now it tells me, that in worlds unknown, 
    The names of heroes, burst from clouds concealing,
    And changed to harmonies, for ever stealing
    Through cloudless blue, and round each silver throne.
    It tells me too, that on a happy day,
    When some good spirit walks upon the earth, 
    Thy name with Alfred's, and the great of yore
    Gently commingling, gives tremendous birth
    To a loud hymn, that sounds far, far away
    To where the great God lives for evermore.