John Keats Quotes

I stood tip-toe upon a little hill,The air was cooling, and so very still,That the sweet buds which with a modest pridePull droopingly, in slanting curve aside,Their scantly leaved, and finely tapering stems,Had not yet lost those starry diademsCaught from the early sobbing of the morn.
John Keats
John Keats

Quotes to Explore

This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to our policies regarding the use of cookies.