John Keats was 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 only having been in publication for four years before his death.
Although his poems were not generally well received by critics during his life, his reputation grew after his death, so that by the end of the 19th century he had become one of the most beloved of all English poets. He had a significant influence on a diverse range of later poets and writers. Jorge Luis Borges stated that his first encounter with Keats was the most significant literary experience of his life.
The poetry of Keats ... more »
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John Keats Poems
A Thing of Beauty (Endymion)
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its lovliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art-- Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids apart,
When I Have Fears
When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain, Before high-piled books, in charactery,
Ode On A Grecian Urn
Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
Ode To A Nightingale
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
His Last Sonnet
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art! - Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night, And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like Nature's patient sleepless Eremite,
Ever let the Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home: At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth,
Ode To Autumn
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
Written on a Summer Evening
The church bells toll a melancholy round, Calling the people to some other prayers, Some other gloominess, more dreadful cares, More harkening to the sermon's horrid sound.
La Belle Dame Sans Merci
Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, Alone and palely loitering? The sedge is withered from the lake, And no birds sing.
A Song About Myself
I. There was a naughty boy, A naughty boy was he, He would not stop at home,
Give Me Women, Wine, and Snuff
GIVE me women, wine, and snuff Untill I cry out "hold, enough!" You may do so sans objection Till the day of resurrection:
A Party Of Lovers
Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes, Nibble their toast, and cool their tea with sighs, Or else forget the purpose of the night, Forget their tea -- forget their appetite.
A Draught Of Sunshine
Hence Burgundy, Claret, and Port, Away with old Hock and madeira, Too earthly ye are for my sport; There's a beverage brighter and clearer.
Quotationsmore quotations »
''Praise or blame has but a momentary effect on the man whose love of beauty in the abstract makes him a severe critic on his own works.''John Keats (1795-1821), British poet. letter, Oct. 9, 1818. Letters of John Keats, no. 90, ed. Frederick Page (1954). Despite Shelley's assertion ...
I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for religionI have shuddered at it. I shudder no moreI could be martyred for my religionLove is my religionI could die for tha...John Keats (1795-1821), British poet. letter, Oct. 13, 1819, to his fiancée Fanny Brawne. Letters of John Keats, no. 160, ed. Frederick Page (1954).
''Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?''John Keats (1795-1821), British poet. letter, Feb. 14-May 3, 1819, to his brother and sister-in-law, George and Georgiana Keats. Letters of John Keats...
''It appears to me that almost any man may like the spider spin from his own inwards his own airy citadel.''John Keats (1795-1821), British poet. letter, Feb. 19, 1818. Letters of John Keats, no. 48, ed. Frederick Page (1954).
''You speak of Lord Byron and methere is this great difference between us. He describes what he seesI describe what I imagine. Mine is the hardest task.''John Keats (1795-1821), British poet. letter, Sept. 17-27, 1819, to his brother and sister-in-law George and Georgiana Keats. The Letters of John Keat...
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
A Thing of Beauty (Endymion)
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkn'd ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, ...