How does the poet speak to men with power, but by being still more a man than they — John Keats Copy Share Image
A long poem is a test of invention which I take to be the Polar star of poetry, as fancy is the… — John Keats Copy Share Image
We hate poetry that has a palpable design upon us - and if we do not agree, seems to put its hand… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Poetry should surprise by a fine excess and not by singularity, it should strike the reader as a wording of his own… — John Keats Copy Share Image
For Poesy alone can tell her dreams, With the fine spell of words alone can save Imagination from the sable charm And… — John Keats Copy Share Image
“A poet is the most unpoetical of anything in existence because he has no identity-he is continually infirming and filling some other… — John Keats Copy Share Image
“I still don't know how to work out a poem. A poem needs understanding through the senses. The point of diving into… — John Keats Copy Share Image
“Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death...” — John Keats Copy Share Image
... Who alive can say 'Thou art no Poet - mayst not tell thy dreams'? Since every man whose soul is not… — John Keats Copy Share Image
“Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have… — John Keats Copy Share Image
The genius of poetry must work out its own salvation in a man; it cannot be matured by law and precept, but… — John Keats Copy Share Image
“When by my solitary hearth I sit, When no fair dreams before my “mind’s eye” flit, And the bare heath of life… — John Keats Copy Share Image
“I do think the bars That kept my spirit in are burst - that I Am sailing with thee through the dizzy… — John Keats Copy Share Image
“Wide sea, that one continuous murmur breeds Along the pebbled shore of memory! Many old rotten-timber'd boats there be Upon thy vaporous… — John Keats Copy Share Image
“Brown and Dilke walked with me and back from the Christmas pantomime. I had not a dispute but a disquisition, with Dilke… — John Keats Copy Share Image
“Think of my Pleasure in Solitude, in comparison of my commerce with the world - there I am a child - there… — John Keats Copy Share Image
With a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration. — John Keats Copy Share Image
Verse, Fame and Beauty are intense indeed, But Death intenser - Death is Life's high meed. — John Keats Copy Share Image
“The same that oft-times hath charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam of perilous seas, in fairy lands forlorn.” — John Keats Copy Share Image
Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong, And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song. — John Keats Copy Share Image
A drainless shower Of light is poesy: 'tis the supreme of power; 'Tis might half slumbering on its own right arm. — John Keats Copy Share Image
“I bade good morrow, And thought to leave her far away behind; But cheerly, cheerly, She loves me dearly; She is so… — 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
