John Keats was born on 31 October 1795, and to celebrate the bicentennial there's a wreath-laying ceremony in Westminster Abbey (Keats was only admitted into the pantheon in the 1950s!) with readings by Victoria Glendinning, Ian McEwan, Michele Roberts and Keats biographer Andrew Motion (6pm, 31 Oct, details 0171 976 0983).

Romantic revival: Media's literary feast overshadowed by fears that poet's 'neglected' London home may be forced to close

'Ever let the fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home' - John Keats

MARIANNE MACDONALD

If you can keep your head when all about you

Permanently Bard: Selected Poetry by Tony Harrison Bloodaxe, pounds 7.9 5

JOHN KEATS: A Life by Stephen Coote, Hodder & Stoughton pounds 18

The world memory championships opened yesterday at Simpson's-in-the-Strand, the London restaurant. Among other tests, contestants, aged 16 to 50, were required to memorise, with punctuation, a specially written 40-line poem by Ted Hughes. Leading at the half-way stage was Dominic O'Brien, current champion, who broke his previous record by recalling the first 142 random digits from a list of 300 after they had been spoken once.

For copyright reasons we are not able to provide the full text of the poem on this database. Following are the details of the publication in which it appears.

This, the most important portrait of William Wordsworth to come to light this century, is by the artist and diarist Benjamin Robert Haydon, and was probably the last in a series of sketches for his huge 'history painting' Christ's Entry into Jerusalem, now in the US. In that work, Haydon placed a lively John Keats next to the older poet, whom he shows in characteristically sombre mood, with what Hazlitt called 'his drooping weight of thought'. This drawing is now on display at the Wordsworth Museum, Dove Cottage, Grasmere, Cumbria LA22 9SH. Tel: 05394-35544

Kipling is a congenital itch on the English literary body. And, as itches tend to do, the arguments about his merits and, more often, his sins flare up every so often.

For copyright reasons we are not able to provide the full text of the poem on this database. Following are the details of the publication in which it appears.

WHEN I first started reading modern poetry, a large part of the romance came from a contemplation of the Faber list, which was printed on the back of each volume. The list seemed to tell you what you ought to read and what you ought to buy. And when a new poet was added to it, that seemed a signal honour.

Sir: The bulldozing of the great horse chestnut on George Green ('Treehouse falls to M11 bulldozer', 8 December) put me in mind of a passage by W. H. Auden: