On a shard of paper, some time in the bleak mid-1930s, F. Scott Fitzgerald incorporated a favourite line from one of his favourite poets, John Keats, in a short verse of his own:
Don’t you worry I surrender
Days are long and life’s a bender
Still I know that
Tender is the Night
Keats was a Romantic, perhaps the Romantic, with his lyric gift and tragically brief life.
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