John Keats
John Keats
John Keatswas an English Romantic poet. He was one of the main figures of the second generation of Romantic poets, along with Lord Byron and Percy Bysshe Shelley, despite his work having been in publication for only four years before his death...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth31 October 1795
soul world use
Call the world if you please "the vale of soul-making." Then you will find out the use of the world.
beautiful self sorrow
How beautiful, if sorrow had not made Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self.
powerful believe feelings
He, who is gone, was one of the very kindest friends I possessed, and yet he was not kinder perhaps to me, than to others. His intense mind and powerful feelings would, I truly believe, have done the world some service, had his life been spared but he was of too sensitive a nature and thus he was destroyed!
artist rift might
You might curb your magnanimity, and be more of an artist, and load every rift of your subject with ore.
drinking ideas world
I find that I can have no enjoyment in the world but the continual drinking of knowledge. I find there is no worthy pursuit but the idea of doing some good for the world.
sea fishing rivers
...all my clear-eyed fish, Golden, or rainbow-sided, or purplish, Vermilion-tail'd, or finn'd with silvery gauze... My charming rod, my potent river spells...
self mad imagination
How sad it is when a luxurious imagination is obliged in self defense to deaden its delicacy in vulgarity, and riot in things attainable that it may not have leisure to go mad after things that are not.
kissing pride fickle
I came to feel how far above All fancy, pride, and fickle maidenhood, All earthly pleasure, all imagined good, Was the warm tremble of a devout kiss.
prayer writing form
All writing is a form of prayer.
death thank-god growing
I shall soon be laid in the quiet grave--thank God for the quiet grave--O! I can feel the cold earth upon me--the daisies growing over me--O for this quiet--it will be my first.
death sleep eagles
My spirit is too weak--mortality Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep, And each imagin'd pinnacle and steep Of godlike hardship tells me I must die Like a sick Eagle looking at the sky.
death thank-god quiet
I shall soon be laid in the quiet grave - thank God for the quiet grave
lap legends
Asleep in lap of legends old.
sleep eye lows
Soft closer of our eyes! Low murmur of tender lullabies!