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
love romantic believe
I never knew before, what such a love as you have made me feel, was; I did not believe in it; my Fancy was afraid of it, lest it should burn me up. But if you will fully love me, though there may be some fire, 'twill not be more than we can bear when moistened and bedewed with Pleasures.
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!
love believe valentines-day
I love you the more in that I believe you had liked me for my own sake and for nothing else.
believe forever wish
I wish to believe in immortality-I wish to live with you forever.
dreams immortal pass pleasures smoothly
Real are the dreams of Gods, and smoothly pass / Their pleasures in a long immortal dream.
benign careful fingers soft
O soft embalmer of the still midnight, / Shutting, with careful fingers and benign / Our gloom-pleased eyes.
happy loveliness simple sweet
Happy is England, sweet her artless daughters; / Enough their simple loveliness for me.
fill four measure mind seasons
Four seasons fill the measure of the year; / There are four seasons in the mind of man.
particular point
Point me out the way / To any one particular beauteous star.
comments led life shakespeare works
Shakespeare led a life of allegory; his works are the comments on it.
steal
O cruelty, / To steal my Basil-pot away from me!
budding days flowers later summer until warm
To set budding more, / And still more, later flowers for the bees, / Until they think warm days will never cease, / For summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells.
hands joy lips
Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips, bidding adieu
fancy home pleasure thy
Ever let thy Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home