John Keats

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

Comments about John Keats

  • Abel Enokela (2/5/2010 6:22:00 AM)

    John Keats is great poet; though dead he is still a great influence in poetry in all ages

    11 person liked.
    7 person did not like.
  • Lalit Patel (7/31/2009 11:12:00 PM)

    Dear Sir,

    I need similar poems of the Human Seasons. Pls mail me as earlier becos its very urgent for me

    Thanks

  • Silly Tony (5/6/2009 11:32:00 PM)

    John Keats, a beautiful name, a handsome man, during his short life created a lot of memorable poems.

  • p.a. noushad p.a. noushad (8/1/2008 3:48:00 AM)

    your poems I read again and again, a nice experience.

  • p.a. noushad p.a. noushad (8/1/2008 3:40:00 AM)

    your poems are heart touching and romantic.

  • Rohan R (7/29/2008 10:01:00 AM)

    Gifted poet that touches the painful hearts

  • p.a. noushad p.a. noushad (7/14/2008 3:58:00 AM)

    Dear keats I love your poems again and again.

  • p.a. noushad p.a. noushad (6/14/2008 1:44:00 AM)

    romantic touch with painful realities.

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

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

    good job!

  • Donny S (6/28/2006 2:09:00 AM)

    Keats.....is definitely one of my favourite poets......I know that, a friend of mine, named Jayan in India dotes on him.......

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 -

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