John Keats

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

John Keats Poems

201. Ode On Melancholy 12/31/2002
202. On The Sea 1/3/2003
203. La Belle Dame Sans Merci 12/31/2002
204. Give Me Women, Wine, And Snuff 1/3/2003
205. Written On A Summer Evening 1/3/2003
206. A Party Of Lovers 3/22/2010
207. To Hope 12/31/2002
208. A Draught Of Sunshine 3/22/2010
209. Ode On A Grecian Urn 12/31/2002
210. Fancy 12/31/2002
211. His Last Sonnet 1/3/2003
212. A Song About Myself 3/22/2010
213. Ode To Autumn 12/31/2002
214. Ode To A Nightingale 12/31/2002
215. When I Have Fears 12/31/2002
216. Bright Star 12/31/2002
217. A Thing Of Beauty (Endymion) 1/3/2003

Comments about John Keats

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

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

    9 person liked.
    9 person did not like.
  • 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.......

  • 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 -

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