Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Real are the dreams of Gods, and smoothly pass Their pleasures in a long immortal dream. — 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… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Real are the dreams of gods, and soothly pass their pleasures in a long immortal dream. — John Keats Copy Share Image
“With duller steel than the Perséan sword They cut away no formless monster's head, But one, whose gentleness did well accord With… — John Keats Copy Share Image
If I should die, I have left no immortal work behind me — nothing to make my friends proud of my memory… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Knowledge enormous makes a God of me. Names, deeds, gray legends, dire events, rebellions, Majesties, sovran voices, agonies, Creations and destroyings, all… — 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
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
“I was never afraid of failure; for I would sooner fail than not be among the greatest.” — John Keats Copy Share
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
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
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
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
When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou… — John Keats Copy Share
