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
life self long-ago
Ghosts of melodious prophesyings rave Round every spot where trod Apollo's foot; Bronze clarions awake, and faintly bruit, Where long ago a giant battle was; And, from the turf, a lullaby doth pass In every place where infant Orpheus slept. Feel we these things? - that moment have we stept Into a sort of oneness, and our state Is like a floating spirit's. But there are Richer entanglements, enthralments far More self-destroying, leading, by degrees, To the chief intensity: the crown of these Is made of love and friendship, and sits high Upon the forehead of humanity.
dream real long
Real are the dreams of gods, and soothly pass their pleasures in a long immortal dream.
stars imagination long
A long poem is a test of invention which I take to be the Polar star of poetry, as fancy is the sails, and imagination the rudder.
dream luxury long
No, no, I'm sure, My restless spirit never could endure To brood so long upon one luxury, Unless it did, though fearfully, espy A hope beyond the shadow of a dream.
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