John Keats
John Keats
John Keatswas an English Romantic poet. He was one of the main figures of the second generation of Romantic poets, along with Lord Byron and Percy Bysshe Shelley, despite his work having been in publication for only four years before his death...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth31 October 1795
flower air rose
Parting they seemed to tread upon the air, Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart Only to meet again more close.
best-friend kissing movement
You are always new. The last of your kisses was even the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest.
love lying heart
I love your hills and I love your dales, And I love your flocks a-bleating; but oh, on the heather to lie together, With both our hearts a-beating!
music spiritual sweet
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter.
life beauty beautiful
A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.
flower sleep winter
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.
dancing soul poppies
Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul.
drinking ideas world
I find that I can have no enjoyment in the world but the continual drinking of knowledge. I find there is no worthy pursuit but the idea of doing some good for the world.
love dream sleep
was it a vision or a waking dream? Fled is that music--do I wake or sleep?
love passion romance
Love is my religion - I could die for it.
love marriage summer
I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.
food book wine
Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.
death divorce sea
Land and sea, weakness and decline are great separators, but death is the great divorcer for ever.
night thinking hands
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance...