John Keats Quotes
-
To SorrowI bade good-morrow,And thought to leave her far away behind;But cheerly, cheerly,She loves me dearly;She is so constant to me, and so kind:I would deceive herAnd so leave her,But ah! she is so constant and so kind.
-
Sometimes goldfinches one by one will dropFrom low hung branches; little space they stop;But sip, and twitter, and their feathers sleek;Then off at once, as in a wanton freak:Or perhaps, to show their black, and golden wingsPausing upon their yellow flutterings.
-
And for her eyes: what could such eyes do there But weep, and weep, that they were born so fair?
-
Some think I have lost that poetical ardour and fire 'tis said I once had- the fact is, perhaps I have; but, instead of that, I hope I shall substitute a more thoughtful and quiet power.
-
The sweet converse of an innocent mind.
-
But were there ever anyWrith'd not of passed joy?The feel of not to feel it,When there is none to heal it,Nor numbed sense to steel it,Was never said in rhyme.
-
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forgetWhat thou among the leaves hast never known,The weariness, the fever, and the fretHere, where men sit and hear each other groan;Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;Where but to think is to be full of sorrowAnd leaden-eyed despairs.
-
Shed no tear! O shed no tear!The flower will bloom another year.Weep no more! O weep no more!Young buds sleep in the root's white core.
-
The Public - a thing I cannot help looking upon as an enemy, and which I cannot address without feelings of hostility.
-
Poetry should surprise by a fine excess and not by singularity, it should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance.
-
O for a life of Sensations rather than of Thoughts!
-
A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.
-
You speak of Lord Byron and me; there is this great difference between us. He describes what he sees I describe what I imagine. Mine is the hardest task.
-
And still she slept an azure-lidded sleep,In blanched linen, smooth, and lavender’d.
-
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast.
-
There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality.
-
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter.
-
O for ten years, that I may overwhelmMyself in poesy; so I may do the deedThat my own soul has to itself decreed.
-
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet.
-
O magic sleep! O comfortable bird,That broodest o’er the troubled sea of the mindTill it is hush’d and smooth!
-
The imagination may be compared to Adam's dream - he awoke and found it truth.
-
No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twistWolfs-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss’dBy nightshade.
-
And mid-May’s eldest child,The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
-
Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?