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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? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear’d,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy’d,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy’d,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead’st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e’er return.

O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st,
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.


John Keats

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My imagination is a monastery, and I am its monk
JOHN KEATS
If poetry comes not as naturally as the leaves to a tree, it had better not come at all
JOHN KEATS
O, sorrow! Why dost borrow Heart's lightness from the merriment of May?
JOHN KEATS
Touch has a memory. O say, love, say,
What can I do to kill it and be free?
JOHN KEATS
A thing of beauty is a joy forever:
Its loveliness increases;
It will never
Pass into...
JOHN KEATS
There was an awful rainbow once in heaven; We know her woof, her texture; she is given In the ...
JOHN KEATS
He play'd an ancient ditty long since mute, In Provence call'd, "La belle dame sans merci."
JOHN KEATS
And shade the violets, That they may bind the moss in leafy nets.
JOHN KEATS
I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for religion - I have shuddered at it. I shudder n...
JOHN KEATS
Poetry should be great and unobtrusive, a thing which enters into one's soul, and does not start...
JOHN KEATS
'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,' - that is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
JOHN KEATS
Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
JOHN KEATS
I will give you a definition of a proud man: he is a man who has neither vanity nor wisdom --one fil...
JOHN KEATS
Do not all charms fly at the mere touch of cold philosophy? There was an awful rainbow once in heave...
JOHN KEATS
What wreath for Lamia? What for Lycius?
What for the sage, old Apollonius?
Upon her aching for...
JOHN KEATS
Health is my expected heaven.
JOHN KEATS
The imagination of a boy is healthy, and the mature imagination of a man is healthy; but there is a ...
JOHN KEATS
I would jump down Etna for any public good -- but I hate a mawkish popularity.
JOHN KEATS
I equally dislike the favor of the public with the love of a woman -- they are both a cloying treacl...
JOHN KEATS
O fret not after knowledge -- I have none, and yet my song comes native with the warmth. O fret not ...
JOHN KEATS
There is nothing stable in the world; uproar's your only music.
JOHN KEATS
Oh for a life of sensations rather than thoughts.
JOHN KEATS
Beauty is truth, truth beauty, --that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
JOHN KEATS
Tis the witching hour of night,
Or bed is the moon and bright,
And the stars they glisten, g...
JOHN KEATS
I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections and the truth of imagination. Wha...
JOHN KEATS
Where the nightingale doth sing Not a senseless, tranced thing, But divine melodious truth.
JOHN KEATS
Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice ...
JOHN KEATS
Poetry should... should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almos...
JOHN KEATS
The world is too brutal for me—I am glad there is such a thing as the grave—I am sure I shall ne...
JOHN KEATS
I go amongst the buildings of a city and I see a Man hurrying along - to what?
JOHN KEATS
He ne'er is crowned with immortality Who fears to follow where airy voices lead.
JOHN KEATS
But were there ever any Writhed not at passed joy?
JOHN KEATS
Thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, / In some melodious plot / of beechen green, and shadows numb...
JOHN KEATS
I will give you a definition of a proud man: he is a man who has neither vanity nor wisdom /one fill...
JOHN KEATS
Then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do si...
JOHN KEATS
I wish to beleave in immortality-I wish to live with you forever.
JOHN KEATS
Now a soft kiss -- Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss
JOHN KEATS
Soon, up aloft, / The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide.
JOHN KEATS
Once upon a time, the American met the Automobile and fell in love. Unfortunately, this led him into...
JOHN KEATS
Don't be discouraged by a failure. It can be a positive experience. Failure is, in a sense, the high...
JOHN KEATS
Souls of poets dead and gone, / What Elysium have ye known, / Happy field or mossy cavern, / Choicer...
JOHN KEATS
Poetry should surprise by a fine excess and not by singularity -it should strike the reader as a wor...
JOHN KEATS
Should ever the fine-eyed maid to me be kind; Ah! surely it must be whenever I find; Some flowery sp...
JOHN KEATS
Dry your eyes--O dry your eyes, For I was taught in Paradise To ease my breast of melodies.
JOHN KEATS
O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap Of murky building...
JOHN KEATS
Fairy Song
Shed no tear! oh, shed no tear!
The flower will bloom another year.
Weep n...
JOHN KEATS
I wish to believe in immortality-I wish to live with you forever.
JOHN KEATS
Bright Star

Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art—
Not in lone s...
JOHN KEATS
I have good reason to be content,
for thank God I can read and
perhaps understand Shakespe...
JOHN KEATS
I will give you a definition of a proud man: he is a man who has neither vanity nor wisdom one fille...
JOHN KEATS
Wide sea, that one continuous murmur breeds
Along the pebbled shore of memory!
Many old ro...
JOHN KEATS
I have clung
To nothing, lov’d a nothing, nothing seen
Or felt but a great dream!
JOHN KEATS
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity...
JOHN KEATS
Life is but a day;
A fragile dew-drop on its perilous way
From a tree’s summit.
JOHN KEATS
It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores
JOHN KEATS
Nothing ever becomes real 'til it is experienced.
JOHN KEATS
Even if I was well - I must make myself as good a Philosopher as possible. Now I have had opportuni...
JOHN KEATS
My passions are all asleep from my having slumbered till nearly eleven and weakened the animal fiber...
JOHN KEATS
There is an electric fire in human nature tending to purify -- so that among these human creatures t...
JOHN KEATS
There is not a fiercer hell than the failure in a great object.
JOHN KEATS
Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced -- even a proverb is no proverb to you till your li...
JOHN KEATS
Are there not thousands in the world who love their fellows even to the death, who feel the giant ag...
JOHN KEATS
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness; ...
JOHN KEATS
Wide sea, that one continuous murmur breeds along the pebbled shore of memory!
JOHN KEATS
I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for religion --I have shuddered at it. I shudder n...
JOHN KEATS
In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook, Thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo...
JOHN KEATS
A proverb is no proverb to you until life has illustrated it.
JOHN KEATS
'Tis the witching hour of night, Orbed is the moon and bright, And the stars they glisten, gli...
JOHN KEATS
I was never afraid of failure; for I would sooner fail than not be among the greatest.
JOHN KEATS
Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they weave a paradise for a sect.
JOHN KEATS
I love you the more that I believe you have liked me for my own sake and for nothing else.
JOHN KEATS
The only means of strengthening one's intelligence is to make up one's mind about nothing-- to let t...
JOHN KEATS
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run Fro...
JOHN KEATS
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up th...
JOHN KEATS
St Agnes' Eve--Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold.
JOHN KEATS
Even now I am perhaps not speaking from myself: but from some character in whose soul I now live.
JOHN KEATS
I have two luxuries to brood over in my walks, your loveliness and the hour of my death.
JOHN KEATS