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A Thing of Beauty (Endymion)
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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,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
John Keats
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Friday, January 03, 2003 |
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Read poems about / on: beauty, rose, moon, green, sleep, joy, heaven, dark, sun, world, tree, dream
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Comments about this poem (A Thing of Beauty (Endymion)
by
John Keats
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grame peele (11/17/2011 4:07:00 AM)
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a poem like this inspire many and many lovers of poetry. excellent
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Claudia Krizay (5/7/2011 1:04:00 PM)
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This is the first poem of the day on this site that I see any value or worth in. it paints a beautiful picture with good descriptions and excellent choice of words. And very appropriate for this time of year- good work.
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John William Clarke (2/19/2011 6:04:00 PM)
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when ever I can I like to use lines or phrases from poets or authors in my own everyday speech, a thing of beauty is a joy forever is one of my favourites.
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Terence George Craddock (5/7/2010 8:03:00 PM)
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John Keats finds beautiful words and a beautiful solace in nature, yet the pain and sting of ill health is still written repeatedly among nature’s beauty throughout this poem
‘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’
Dying of tuberculosis, knowing the agony of this death, coughing up blood until you die, a death his mother and brother have already died from. Not being able to marry the woman you love because you are too ill and poor, is tragic but not beautiful. If there is a poets heaven, reflections on this world would not be a priority, too many of these great poets have lived truly wretched deaths. Keats yearns for restored health and the beauty of blessed sleep in this poem,
‘A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.’
yet Keats realistically places his hope beyond the doom of death concluding with
‘And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.’
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Ramesh T A (5/7/2010 2:34:00 AM)
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In spite of gloomy situation around us beautiful things of Nature give us hope to live on the Earth and pull on the days with confidence! It is a beautiful poem of John Keats that inspires and gives encouragement to do best and beautiful things in the world!
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Patrick Bois (12/30/2009 3:48:00 AM)
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John Keats was a god. For him to have this view is godly. And let us not forget that death was for Keats as beautiful, if not more than what he deemed an object of beauty, such as the everchanging reeds and rills and whatnot.
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Michael Pruchnicki (5/7/2009 5:48:00 PM)
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That's all we need, right? Another loon who loves 'Romantics', all those dwarves and vampires who espouse Shelley for all the wromg reasons! Look around you, Mario Rios Pinot, and let the sun shine in! You and your kind are the first to line us up against the wall when the time comes to speak truth to power, and bang away with rifles! Read some history from the Russian revolution to Castro's monstrous revolution in Cuba! Muchas gracias, Mario!
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Mario Rios Pinot (5/7/2009 4:43:00 PM)
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I love the Romantics revolutionary or conservative, all that emotion and dwarfs and vampires in their rotting castles and Shelley the revolutionary. 'I meet a traveler from an antique land'...speak truth to power and if that doesnot work maybe a gun? Thank you.
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Michael Pruchnicki (5/7/2009 7:26:00 AM)
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As usual, the redoubtable Straw hits the tack with a sledge hammer.
If anything, nature lasts forever and we mortals pass into nothingness or as he puts it 'hope of resurrection'! Whatever 'man-made beauty' means is beyond the moon and over the horizon!
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Kevin Straw (5/7/2009 6:57:00 AM)
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Keats is a marvellous poet, but his view of nature as some kind of therapy centre is unnatural. It is the view of the townie who takes a day out in the country and rests his weary head under a tree and is able to view the decidedly man-made 'beauty' about him with a detached sentiment. Is it not an irony that nature, which is passing, and has to pass, into nothingess, becomes an example of an eternal thing of beauty? Keats poetry almost always contains the shadow of his death, and perhaps his hope of resurrection. By the way a word check would have eliminated the spelling error.
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