She press'd his hand in slumber; so once more He could not help but kiss her and adore. — John Keats Copy Share Image
But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed. — John Keats Copy Share Image
You are always new. The last of your kisses was even the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the… — John Keats Copy Share Image
I came to feel how far above All fancy, pride, and fickle maidenhood, All earthly pleasure, all imagined good, Was the warm… — John Keats Copy Share Image
I have had a thousand kisses, for which with my whole soul I thank love—but if you should deny me the thousand… — John Keats Copy Share Image
You are always new. THe last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement 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
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter: therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but, more… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Ask yourself my love whether you are not very cruel to have so entrammelled me, so destroyed my freedom. Will you confess… — 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
