John Keats

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

John Keats Poems

41. King Stephen 3/23/2010
42. Sonnet To Homer 3/23/2010
43. Sonnet: Before He Went 3/23/2010
44. On Visiting The Tomb Of Burns 3/23/2010
45. Sonnet Iv. How Many Bards Gild The Lapses Of Time! 3/23/2010
46. Imitation Of Spenser 3/23/2010
47. Sonnet. Written On A Blank Page In Shakespeare's Poems, Facing 'A Lover's Complaint' 3/23/2010
48. Sonnet Viii. To My Brothers 3/23/2010
49. Fragment Of 3/29/2010
50. Fragment Of An Ode To Maia. Written On May Day 1818 3/29/2010
51. Two Or Three 3/23/2010
52. What The Thrush Said. Lines From A Letter To John Hamilton Reynolds 3/23/2010
53. Sonnet I. To My Brother George 3/23/2010
54. Lines On Seeing A Lock Of Milton's Hair 3/23/2010
55. Two Sonnets. To Haydon, With A Sonnet Written On Seeing The Elgin Marbles 3/23/2010
56. Sonnet Iii. Written On The Day That Mr. Leigh Hunt Left Prison 3/23/2010
57. Sonnet Vi. To G. A. W. 3/23/2010
58. Epistle To John Hamilton Reynolds 3/23/2010
59. Staffa 3/23/2010
60. To **** 3/23/2010
61. Sonnet. On A Picture Of Leander 3/23/2010
62. Sonnet Ii. To ****** 3/23/2010
63. To -------. 3/23/2010
64. Fragment Of 'The Castle Builder.' 3/23/2010
65. Stanzas. In A Drear-Nighted December 3/29/2010
66. Sonnet To The Nile 3/23/2010
67. Sonnet Xii. On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour 3/23/2010
68. Sonnet: As From The Darkening Gloom A Silver Dove 3/23/2010
69. Daisy's Song 2/4/2016
70. Extracts From An Opera 3/23/2010
71. Fragment. Where's The Poet? 3/23/2010
72. The Gadfly 3/23/2010
73. Sonnet. Written In Disgust Of Vulgar Superstition 3/23/2010
74. Sonnet. To A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown 3/23/2010
75. Sonnet Vii. To Solitude 3/23/2010
76. Stanzas To Miss Wylie 3/23/2010
77. Sonnet To Chatterton 3/23/2010
78. Isabella; Or, The Pot Of Basil: A Story From Boccaccio 3/29/2010
79. Sonnet To Byron 3/23/2010
80. On Receiving A Curious Shell 3/23/2010

Comments about John Keats

  • Harsh (6/28/2018 11:55:00 AM)

    Please see me good poems by John keats

    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Harsh (6/28/2018 11:49:00 AM)

    Nice poem by John Keats

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  • Risha Gupta (5/24/2018 1:07:00 AM)

    Amazin facalties with the vidio of the poem

  • Gulzar Hussain ranjoor (3/29/2018 12:48:00 AM)

    Nice and attractive poems

  • Grayson Goss (3/20/2018 1:46:00 PM)

    This poet has forver changed my life. No one else can write as he did. He is the Tom Bombadil of poetry. He is one of a kind. Every single line I read I can't help but shed a tear, not from sadness, but from amazement. I aspire to write poetry as Keats did. This sounds weird but i feel as if Keats will sometimes talk through me. A teacher once told me Listen class this is just a poem, and without hesitation Keats spoke through me and said it is never just a poem.
    -GraysonGossBoss

  • Joshua Adeyemi Joshua Adeyemi (3/4/2018 3:13:00 PM)

    My poems have often being liken to this man's poems...

    And I stopped to wait by... And see who he is...

    Well... He's one of them!

  • Fuck who made this web (2/27/2018 11:00:00 AM)

    Jzhahshzhzjzhxhzjch

  • shut the f*uck your mom (2/22/2018 4:24:00 PM)

    this is a test HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

  • Shubham kute patil (2/21/2018 12:54:00 AM)

    It is historical movement

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 My Brothers

Small, busy flames play through the fresh laid coals,
And their faint cracklings o'er our silence creep
Like whispers of the household gods that keep
A gentle empire o'er fraternal souls.
And while, for rhymes, I search around the poles,
Your eyes are fix d, as in poetic sleep,
Upon the lore so voluble and deep,
That aye at fall of night our care condoles.
This is your birth-day Tom, and I rejoice

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