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
summer nature wind
What is more gentle than a wind is summer?
flower hair wind
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers.
blow wind tree
Or thou might'st better listen to the wind, Whose language is to thee a barren noise, Though it blows legend-laden through the trees.
grateful kissing wind
But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.
hands joy lips
Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips, bidding adieu
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.
steal
O cruelty, / To steal my Basil-pot away from me!
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.
cease fears pen
When I have fears that I may cease to be, Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain.
beyond flaw forces happiness singing skies spoils summer
It is a flaw / In happiness to see beyond our bourn, - / It forces us in summer skies to mourn, / It spoils the singing of the nightingale.
fill four measure mind seasons
Four seasons fill the measure of the year; / There are four seasons in the mind of man.
happy loveliness simple sweet
Happy is England, sweet her artless daughters; / Enough their simple loveliness for me.
god golden patient slept thine
God of the golden bow, / And of the golden lyre, / And of the golden hair, / And of the golden fire, / Charioteer / Of the patient year, / Where - where slept thine ire?