Spenser, a jealous honorer of thine,
A forester deep in thy midmost trees,
Did last eve ask my promise to refine
Some English that might strive thine ear to please.
But, Elfin-poet, 'tis impossible
For an inhabitant of wintry earth
To rise, like Phœbus, with a golden quell,
Fire-wing'd, and make a morning in his mirth.
It is impossible to escape from toil
O' the sudden, and receive thy spiriting:
The flower must drink the nature of the soil
Before it can put forth its blossoming:
Be with me in the summer days, and I
Will for thine honor and his pleasure try.
Keats essentially turns his couplet into an invocation to a muse, but his muse is Spenser, and if Spenser will inspire him Keats is pledging to honor Spenser’s name (a difficult task) and help out John Hamilton Reynolds, who asked Keats to help with his poems in the first place.