O for the gentleness of old Romance, the simple planning of a minstrel's song! — 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
Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them; thou has thy music too. — John Keats Copy Share Image
O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet my song comes native with the warmth. O fret not after… — 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
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep… — John Keats Copy Share Image
“Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu! the fancy cannot… — 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
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
“Softly the breezes from the forest came, Softly they blew aside the taper's flame; Clear was the song from Philomel's far bower;… — 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
