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
song spring thinking
Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them; thou has thy music too.
summer dream spring
Four Seasons fill the measure of the year; There are four seasons in the mind of man: He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear Takes in all beauty with an easy span: He has his Summer, when luxuriously Spring's honey'd cud of youthful thought he loves To ruminate, and by such dreaming high Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings He furleth close; contented so to look On mists in idleness—to let fair things Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook. He has his Winter too of pale misfeature, Or else he would forego his mortal nature.
spring flower juice
Even bees, the little almsmen of spring bowers, know there is richest juice in poison-flowers.
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
cease fears pen
When I have fears that I may cease to be, Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain.