To Byron poem – John Keats poems
Byron! how sweetly sad thy melody! Attuning still the soul to tenderness, As if soft Pity, with unusual stress, Had touch’d her plaintive lute, and thou, being by, Hadst caught the tones, nor suffer’d them to die. O’ershadowing sorrow doth not make thee less Delightful: thou thy griefs dost dress With a bright halo, […]
To Autumn poem – John Keats poems
I Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel […]
To Ailsa Rock poem – John Keats poems
Hearken, thou craggy ocean-pyramid, Give answer by thy voice—the sea-fowls’ screams! When were thy shoulders mantled in huge streams? When from the sun was thy broad forehead hid? How long is’t since the mighty Power bid Thee heave to airy sleep from fathom dreams— Sleep in the lap of thunder or sunbeams— Or when […]
To A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown poem – John Keats poems
Fresh morning gusts have blown away all fear From my glad bosom,—now from gloominess I mount for ever—not an atom less Than the proud laurel shall content my bier. No! by the eternal stars! or why sit here In the Sun’s eye, and ‘gainst my temples press Apollo’s very leaves, woven to bless By […]
To A Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses poem – John Keats poems
As late I rambled in the happy fields, What time the skylark shakes the tremulous dew From his lush clover covert;—when anew Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields; I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields, A fresh-blown musk-rose; ’twas the first that threw Its sweets upon the summer: graceful it grew As […]
To poem – John Keats poems
Had I a man’s fair form, then might my sighs Be echoed swiftly through that ivory shell, Thine ear, and find thy gentle heart; so well Would passion arm me for the enterprise: But ah! I am no knight whose foeman dies; No cuirass glistens on my bosom’s swell; I am no happy shepherd […]
This Living Hand poem – John Keats poems
This living hand, now warm and capable Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold And in the icy silence of the tomb, So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights That thou wouldst wish thine own heart dry of blood So in my veins red life might stream again, And thou be […]
Think Of It Not, Sweet One poem – John Keats poems
Think not of it, sweet one, so;— Give it not a tear; Sigh thou mayst, and bid it go Any—anywhere. Do not lool so sad, sweet one,— Sad and fadingly; Shed one drop then,—it is gone— O ’twas born to die! Still so pale? then, dearest, weep; Weep, I’ll count the tears, And each […]
The Human Seasons poem – John Keats poems
Four Seasons fill the measure of the year; There are four seasons in the mind of man: He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear Takes in all beauty with an easy span: He has his Summer, when luxuriously Spring’s honied cud of youthful thought he loves To ruminate, and by such dreaming high […]
The Eve Of St. Agnes poem – John Keats poems
St. Agnes’ Eve–Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold; The hare limp’d trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold: Numb were the Beadsman’s fingers, while he told His rosary, and while his frosted breath, Like pious incense from a censer old, Seem’d […]
The Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are Gone poem – John Keats poems
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone! Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast, Warm breath, light whisper, tender semitone, Bright eyes, accomplished shape, and lang’rous waist! Faded the flower and all its budded charms, Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes, Faded the shape of beauty from […]
Stanzas poem – John Keats poems
IN a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne’er remember Their green felicity: The north cannot undo them, With a sleety whistle through them; Nor frozen thawings glue them From budding at the prime. In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook, Thy bubblings ne’er remember Apollo’s summer look; But with a […]
Song of the Indian Maid, from ‘Endymion’ poem – John Keats poems
O SORROW! Why dost borrow The natural hue of health, from vermeil lips?– To give maiden blushes To the white rose bushes? Or is it thy dewy hand the daisy tips? O Sorrow! Why dost borrow The lustrous passion from a falcon-eye?– To give the glow-worm light? Or, on a moonless night, To tinge, […]
Robin Hood poem – John Keats poems
to a friend No! those days are gone away And their hours are old and gray, And their minutes buried all Under the down-trodden pall Of the leaves of many years: Many times have winter’s shears, Frozen North, and chilling East, Sounded tempests to the feast Of the forest’s whispering fleeces, Since men knew […]
On The Sea poem – John Keats poems
It keeps eternal whisperings around Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound. Often ’tis in such gentle temper found, That scarcely will the very smallest shell Be moved for days from whence it sometime fell, When last the […]
On The Grasshopper And Cricket poem – John Keats poems
The poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead; That is the Grasshopper’s—he takes the lead In summer luxury,—he has never done With his delights; for when tired out […]
On Sitting Down To Read King Lear Once Again poem – John Keats poems
O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute! Fair plumed Syren! Queen of far away! Leave melodizing on this wintry day, Shut up thine olden pages, and be mute: Adieu! for once again the fierce dispute, Betwixt damnation and impassion’d clay Must I burn through; once more humbly assay The bitter-sweet of this Shakespearian fruit. Chief […]
On Seeing The Elgin Marbles For The First Time poem – John Keats poems
My spirit is too weak; mortality Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep, And each imagined pinnacle and steep Of godlike hardship tells me I must die Like a sick eagle looking at the sky. Yet ’tis a gentle luxury to weep, That I have not the cloudy winds to keep Fresh for the […]
On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour poem – John Keats poems
Give me a golden pen, and let me lean On heaped-up flowers, in regions clear, and far; Bring me a tablet whiter than a star, Or hand of hymning angel, when ’tis seen The silver strings of heavenly harp atween: And let there glide by many a pearly car Pink robes, and wavy hair, […]
On First Looking Into Chapman’s Homer poem – John Keats poems
Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold, And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; Round many western islands have I been Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanse had I been told That deep-brow’d Homer ruled as his demesne; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene […]
On Fame poem – John Keats poems
Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy To those who woo her with too slavish knees, But makes surrender to some thoughtless boy, And dotes the more upon a heart at ease; She is a Gypsy,—will not speak to those Who have not learnt to be content without her; A Jilt, whose […]
Ode To Psyche poem – John Keats poems
O Goddess! hear these tuneless numbers, wrung By sweet enforcement and remembrance dear, And pardon that thy secrets should be sung Even into thine own soft-conched ear: Surely I dreamt to-day, or did I see The winged Psyche with awaken’d eyes? I wander’d in a forest thoughtlessly, And, on the sudden, fainting with surprise, […]
Ode to Fanny poem – John Keats poems
Physician Nature! Let my spirit blood! O ease my heart of verse and let me rest; Throw me upon thy Tripod, till the flood Of stifling numbers ebbs from my full breast. A theme! a theme! great nature! give a theme; Let me begin my dream. I come — I see thee, as thou […]
Ode To Autumn poem – John Keats poems
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run; To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells […]
Ode To A Nightingale poem – John Keats poems
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: ‘Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness,– That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees […]
Ode On Melancholy poem – John Keats poems
No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist Wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine; Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss’d By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine; Make not your rosary of yew-berries, Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl A partner in your sorrow’s […]
Ode On Indolence poem – John Keats poems
One morn before me were three figures seen, I With bowed necks, and joined hands, side-faced; And one behind the other stepp’d serene, In placid sandals, and in white robes graced; They pass’d, like figures on a marble urn, When shifted round to see the other side; They came again; as when the urn […]
Ode On A Grecian Urn poem – John Keats poems
Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fring’d legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? What men or gods are these? […]
O Solitude! If I Must With Thee Dwell poem – John Keats poems
O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap Of murky buildings: climb with me the steep,— Nature’s observatory—whence the dell, In flowery slopes, its river’s crystal swell, May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep ‘Mongst boughs pavilioned, where the deer’s swift leap Startles the […]
Meg Merrilies poem – John Keats poems
Old Meg she was a Gipsy, And liv’d upon the Moors: Her bed it was the brown heath turf, And her house was out of doors. Her apples were swart blackberries, Her currants pods o’ broom; Her wine was dew of the wild white rose, Her book a churchyard tomb. Her Brothers were the […]
Lines On The Mermaid Tavern poem – John Keats poems
Souls of Poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host’s Canary wine? Or are fruits of Paradise Sweeter than those dainty pies Of venison? O generous food! Drest as though bold Robin Hood Would, […]
Lines from Endymion poem – John Keats poems
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loviliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the […]
Lines poem – John Keats poems
Unfelt unheard, unseen, I’ve left my little queen, Her languid arms in silver slumber lying: Ah! through their nestling touch, Who—who could tell how much There is for madness—cruel, or complying? Those faery lids how sleek! Those lips how moist!—they speak, In ripest quiet, shadows of sweet sounds: Into my fancy’s ear Melting a […]
Last Sonnet poem – John Keats poems
BRIGHT Star, would I were steadfast as thou art– Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night, And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like Nature’s patient sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priest-like task Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores, Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask Of snow upon the mountains […]
La Belle Dame Sans Merci poem – John Keats poems
Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, Alone and palely loitering; The sedge is wither’d from the lake, And no birds sing. Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, So haggard and so woe-begone? The squirrel’s granary is full, And the harvest’s done. I see a lily on thy brow, With anguish moist and […]
Keen, Fitful Gusts are Whisp’ring Here and There poem – John Keats poems
Keen, fitful gusts are whisp’ring here and there Among the bushes half leafless, and dry; The stars look very cold about the sky, And I have many miles on foot to fare. Yet feel I little of the cool bleak air, Or of the dead leaves rustling drearily, Or of those silver lamps that […]
Isabella or The Pot of Basil poem – John Keats poems
I. Fair Isabel, poor simple Isabel! Lorenzo, a young palmer in Love’s eye! They could not in the self-same mansion dwell Without some stir of heart, some malady; They could not sit at meals but feel how well It soothed each to be the other by; They could not, sure, beneath the same roof […]
John Keats – John Keats Poems
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In Drear-Nighted December poem – John Keats poems
In drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne’er remember Their green felicity: The north cannot undo them With a sleety whistle through them; Nor frozen thawings glue them From budding at the prime. In drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook, Thy bubblings ne’er remember Apollo’s summer look; But with a sweet forgetting, […]
If By Dull Rhymes Our English Must Be Chain’d poem – John Keats poems
If by dull rhymes our English must be chain’d, And, like Andromeda, the Sonnet sweet Fetter’d, in spite of pained loveliness; Let us find out, if we must be constrain’d, Sandals more interwoven and complete To fit the naked foot of poesy; Let us inspect the lyre, and weigh the stress Of every chord, […]