was it a vision or a waking dream? Fled is that music--do I wake or sleep? — John Keats Copy Share Image
O for the gentleness of old Romance, the simple planning of a minstrel's song! — John Keats Copy Share Image
Dry your eyes O dry your eyes, For I was taught in Paradise To ease my breast of melodies. — John Keats Copy Share Image
“Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on.” — John Keats Copy Share Image
Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them; thou has thy music too. — John Keats Copy Share Image
Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know. — 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
Dance and Provencal song and sunburnt mirth! On for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Away with old Romance! Away with novels, plots and plays of foreign courts; Away with love-verses, sugar'd in rhyme, the intrigues, amours… — 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
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
