John Keats

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

Happy Is England! I Could Be Content - Poem by John Keats

Happy is England! I could be content
To see no other verdure than its own;
To feel no other breezes than are blown
Through its tall woods with high romances blent:
Yet do I sometimes feel a languishment
For skies Italian, and an inward groan
To sit upon an Alp as on a throne,
And half forget what world or worldling meant.
Happy is England, sweet her artless daughters;
Enough their simple loveliness for me,
Enough their whitest arms in silence clinging:
Yet do I often warmly burn to see
Beauties of deeper glance, and hear their singing,
And float with them about the summer waters.

Topic(s) of this poem: happiness


Comments about Happy Is England! I Could Be Content by John Keats

  • (10/13/2017 3:05:00 PM)


    Frankly, I cannot see that the poem has anything much to do with patriotism. And it is about happiness, but only so as to say that it can be be found only partially in England. The spirit requires more than the 'sweetness of her artless daughters'; it may desire the majestic solitude of the Alps, as well as the 'beauties of deeper glance' floating upon Italian waters. (Report) Reply

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  • Gajanan Mishra (8/8/2016 11:01:00 PM)


    loveliness of life, good one (Report) Reply

  • Susan Williams (8/8/2016 5:48:00 PM)


    We do love our country be it England or USA, it is our homeland, where we are comfortable, where we are familiar with its climate, its people, its society. Beautifully written- -of course- this is John Keats behind the pen. (Report) Reply

  • (8/8/2016 3:23:00 PM)


    A wonderful poem, in which John Keats uses the figurative language to paint England's nature in colors. (Report) Reply

  • (8/8/2016 11:09:00 AM)


    A beautifully envisioned great and lovely song displaying a special bonding with England, nature and people over there. Thanks for sharing it here. (Report) Reply

  • (8/8/2016 9:02:00 AM)


    An early masterpiece of double-think. (Report) Reply

  • Ramesh T A (8/8/2016 7:13:00 AM)


    Wonderful sonnet weaved by the artistic hand of John Keats of the artless dames of England as he was languishing in vain of his great loss in love! (Report) Reply

  • Rajnish Manga (8/8/2016 5:55:00 AM)


    The poem carries a patriotic fervor without being eccentric. Here the nature plays the central part.
    Happy is England!
    To sit upon an Alp as on a throne,
    (Report) Reply

  • Edward Kofi Louis (8/8/2016 12:15:00 AM)


    Sweet her artless daughters! Thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

  • (12/7/2009 8:42:00 PM)


    What a great poem!
    Such a nice image of what England was in Keats' eyes. I can understand why England is his Home.
    (Report) Reply

  • (10/31/2009 1:57:00 AM)


    in my point of view, john keats's mind was better than shakespear......i mean he wrote better.....you can read ''i stood tip-toe upon a little hill'' and you will know how.. (Report) Reply

  • Ravi A (8/14/2009 11:51:00 AM)


    If 'A thing of beauty is a joy forever' for Keats, then his sense of beauty cannot remain within the bounds of England. It will certainly overflow. In this poem, it actually happens. Beauties of deeper glance.... what a beautiful reflection on the concept of beauty. His mind also goes to the peaks of Alps, to the bountiness of nature. Though Keats is an English poet, his last resting place happens to be Italy. Perhaps, from his grave he may still be feeling a languishment for skies Italian! He may be longing for the peaks of Alps! May god bless him. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: happy, sometimes, silence, summer, world, daughter, romance, sky, water



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

Poem Edited: Friday, December 19, 2014


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