When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to… — John Keats Copy Share Image
... the open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown - the Air is our robe of state - the… — John Keats Copy Share Image
I shall soon be laid in the quiet grave--thank God for the quiet grave--O! I can feel the cold earth upon me--the… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Who, of men, can tell That flowers would bloom, or that green fruit would swell To melting pulp, that fish would have… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art--- Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids… — John Keats Copy Share Image
The poetry of earth is never dead When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide I cooling trees,… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Bards of Passion and of Mirth, Ye have left your souls on earth! Have ye souls in heaven too, Double-lived in regions… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Beauty is truth, truth beauty,-that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know. — John Keats Copy Share Image
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever;It's loveliness increase;it will never pass into nothingness;but still will keep a bower quiet for us,and… — John Keats Copy Share Image
There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: We know her woof, her texture; she is given In the dull catalogue of common things.… — John Keats Copy Share Image
“I was never afraid of failure; for I would sooner fail than not be among the greatest.” — John Keats Copy Share Image
Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Deep in the shady sadness of a vale Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, Far from the fiery noon and eve's one… — John Keats Copy Share Image
I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for their religion - I have shudder'd at it. I shudder no more. I could… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Dance and Provencal song and sunburnt mirth! On for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene! With… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Many have original minds who do not think it - they are led away by custom! — John Keats Copy Share Image
