John Keats

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

John Keats Poems

161. Spenserian Stanza. Written At The Close Of Canto Ii, Book V, Of 3/23/2010
162. Spenserian Stanzas On Charles Armitage Brown 3/23/2010
163. Staffa 3/23/2010
164. Stanzas 1/4/2003
165. Stanzas To Miss Wylie 3/23/2010
166. Stanzas. In A Drear-Nighted December 3/29/2010
167. Teignmouth 3/29/2010
168. The Cap And Bells; Or, The Jealousies: A Faery Tale -- Unfinished 3/23/2010
169. The Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are Gone 1/13/2003
170. The Devon Maid: Stanzas Sent In A Letter To B. R. Haydon 3/23/2010
171. The Eve Of Saint Mark. A Fragment 3/23/2010
172. The Eve Of St. Agnes 12/31/2002
173. The Gadfly 3/23/2010
174. The Human Seasons 12/31/2002
175. Think Of It Not, Sweet One 12/31/2002
176. This Living Hand 1/3/2003
177. To **** 3/23/2010
178. To -------. 3/23/2010
179. To A Cat 1/7/2015
180. To A Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses 1/13/2003
181. To A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown 1/13/2003
182. To Ailsa Rock 1/13/2003
183. To Autumn 12/31/2002
184. To Byron 1/3/2003
185. To Charles Cowden Clarke 3/23/2010
186. To Fanny 1/13/2003
187. To G.A.W. 1/13/2003
188. To George Felton Mathew 3/23/2010
189. To Haydon With A Sonnet Written On Seeing The Elgin Marbles 1/3/2003
190. To Homer 12/31/2002
191. To Hope 12/31/2002
192. To John Hamilton Reynolds 1/13/2003
193. To Mrs Reynolds' Cat 1/3/2003
194. To My Brother George 1/13/2003
195. To My Brothers 1/3/2003
196. To One Who Has Been Long In City Pent 12/31/2002
197. To Sleep 12/31/2002
198. To Solitude 12/31/2002
199. To Some Ladies 3/23/2010
200. To The Ladies Who Saw Me Crowned 3/23/2010
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)


DEEP in the shady sadness of a vale
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star,
Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone,
Still as the silence round about his lair;
Forest on forest hung above his head
Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there,
Not so much life as on a summer's day

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