John Keats

(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821 / London, England)

Comments about John Keats

  • Veteran Poet - 1,902 Points p.a. noushad (8/1/2008 3:40:00 AM)

    your poems are heart touching and romantic.

    7 person liked.
    8 person did not like.
  • Rookie Rohan R (7/29/2008 10:01:00 AM)

    Gifted poet that touches the painful hearts

  • Veteran Poet - 1,902 Points p.a. noushad (7/14/2008 3:58:00 AM)

    Dear keats I love your poems again and again.

  • Veteran Poet - 1,902 Points p.a. noushad (6/14/2008 1:44:00 AM)

    romantic touch with painful realities.

  • Rookie Javier Alonso (6/7/2008 10:12:00 PM)

    great use of imagery.
    you definitely got me to imagine everything going on

    good job!

  • Rookie Donny S (6/28/2006 2:09:00 AM) definitely one of my favourite poets......I know that, a friend of mine, named Jayan in India dotes on him.......

  • Rookie - 4 Points Vikram Aarella - The Poem Shooter (6/1/2006 2:37:00 PM)

    Keats will remain one of my favourite authors.

Best Poem of John Keats

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, ...

Read the full of A Thing Of Beauty (Endymion)

To Mrs Reynolds' Cat

Cat! who hast pass’d thy grand climacteric,
How many mice and rats hast in thy days
Destroy’d? How many tit bits stolen? Gaze
With those bright languid segments green, and prick
Those velvet ears - but pr’ythee do not stick
Thy latent talons in me - and upraise
Thy gentle mew - and tell me all thy frays,
Of fish and mice, and rats and tender chick.
Nay, look not down, nor lick thy dainty wrists -

[Hata Bildir]