In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicity. — John Keats Copy Share Image
It is a flaw In happiness to see beyond our bourn, - It forces us in summer skies to mourn, It spoils… — John Keats Copy Share Image
The roaring of the wind is my wife and the stars through the window pane are my children. The mighty abstract idea… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Though the most beautiful creature were waiting for me at the end of a journey or a walk; though the carpet were… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Wherein lies happiness? In that which becks Our ready minds to fellowship divine, A fellowship with essence; till we shine, Full alchemiz’d,… — John Keats Copy Share Image
I have good reason to be content, for thank God I can read and perhaps understand Shakespeare to his depths. — John Keats Copy Share Image
“If I am destined to be happy with you here—how short is the longest Life—I wish to believe in immortality—I wish to… — John Keats Copy Share Image
“My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Health is the greatest of blessings - with health and hope we should be content to live. — 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
