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
failure hell objects
There is not a fiercer hell than the failure in a great object.
summer children wine
Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves; And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
half has-beens
Many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death.
failure positive-experiences discouraged
Don't be discouraged by a failure. It can be a positive experience.
sleep sea bird
O magic sleep! O comfortable bird, That broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind Till it is hush'd and smooth!
bears naked calm
To bear all naked truths, And to envisage circumstance, all calm, That is the top of sovereignty
blow wind tree
Or thou might'st better listen to the wind, Whose language is to thee a barren noise, Though it blows legend-laden through the trees.
solitude
The thought, the deadly thought of solitude.
lap legends
Asleep in lap of legends old.
death thank-god quiet
I shall soon be laid in the quiet grave - thank God for the quiet grave
memories liberty
Touch has a memory. O say, love say, What can I do to kill it and be free In my old liberty?
friendship summer running
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 shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
nature stars children
The roaring of the wind is my wife and the stars through the window pane are my children.
pain heart sadness
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains/ My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk.