Mahir Ali THE headstone above a final resting place dug in Rome’s non-Catholic cemetery 200 years ago today bears the indelible inscription: “This grave contains all that was mortal of a young English poet who, on his death bed, in the bitterness of his heart at the malicious power of his enemies, desired these words to be engraven on his tomb stone: ‘Here lies one whose name was writ in water’.” There is a harp above the inscription, but no name. As some readers might have guessed, the mortal remains are those of John Keats, the bicentenary of whose distressingly premature demise was commemorated yesterday with readings, lectures, virtual tours and the like. His immortal remains can be found in bookshelves all around the world.