The Complete Poetical Works and Letters of John KeatsIn the few short years of his life John Keats created lasting images of beauty. He wrote with a firm touch, with rich yet controlled imagination, with a joyous delight in nature. He possessed an instant alchemy by which he transmuted all sights and sounds into poetry. Voracious reading set him standards rather than furnished him models, and he strove to perfect his poetry through constant creative revision. He pleaded for freedom of imagination as opposed to the constraints of the school of Pope. He traveled widely in a futile search for health. Finally, in Rome, at the age of twenty-five, John Keats died of consumption. -- From publisher's description. |
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Page 7
... lips pour forth the inspiring words . A silver trumpet Spenser blows , And , as its martial notes to silence flee , From a virgin chorus flows A hymn in praise of spotless Chastity . ' Tis still ! Wild warblings from the Eolian lyre ...
... lips pour forth the inspiring words . A silver trumpet Spenser blows , And , as its martial notes to silence flee , From a virgin chorus flows A hymn in praise of spotless Chastity . ' Tis still ! Wild warblings from the Eolian lyre ...
Page 15
... lips , and downward look ; O let me for one moment touch her wrist ; Let me one moment to her breathing list ; And as she leaves me , may she often turn Her fair eyes looking through her locks au- burne . What next ? A tuft of evening ...
... lips , and downward look ; O let me for one moment touch her wrist ; Let me one moment to her breathing list ; And as she leaves me , may she often turn Her fair eyes looking through her locks au- burne . What next ? A tuft of evening ...
Page 16
... lips First touch'd ; what amorous and fondling nips They gave each other's cheeks ; with all their sighs , And how they kist each other's tremulous eyes : The silver lamp , wonder- - - - the ravishment , - the The darkness , loneliness ...
... lips First touch'd ; what amorous and fondling nips They gave each other's cheeks ; with all their sighs , And how they kist each other's tremulous eyes : The silver lamp , wonder- - - - the ravishment , - the The darkness , loneliness ...
Page 19
... lips can make it : till agreed , A lovely tale of human life we ' ll read . 110 And one will teach a tame dove how it best May fan the cool air gently o'er my rest ; Another , bending o'er her nimble tread , Will set a green robe ...
... lips can make it : till agreed , A lovely tale of human life we ' ll read . 110 And one will teach a tame dove how it best May fan the cool air gently o'er my rest ; Another , bending o'er her nimble tread , Will set a green robe ...
Page 26
... I am no knight whose foeman dies ; No cuirass glistens on my bosom's swell ; I am no happy shepherd of the dell Whose lips have trembled with a maiden's eyes . Yet must I dote upon thee , call thee sweet 26 EARLY POEMS JOHN TAYLOR.
... I am no knight whose foeman dies ; No cuirass glistens on my bosom's swell ; I am no happy shepherd of the dell Whose lips have trembled with a maiden's eyes . Yet must I dote upon thee , call thee sweet 26 EARLY POEMS JOHN TAYLOR.
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Common terms and phrases
affectionate Brother JOHN Albert Auranthe beautiful BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON breath bright Brown Charles Armitage Brown Charles Cowden Clarke CHARLES WENTWORTH DILKE clouds Conrad dark death delight Dilke doth dream ears Endymion Erminia Ethelbert eyes fair FANNY BRAWNE FANNY KEATS fear feel flowers friend JOHN KEATS George Gersa give Glocester Hampstead hand happy Haydon head hear heard heart heaven hope Hunt JOHN HAMILTON REYNOLDS Keats's lady Lamia leave letter lines lips live look Lord Lord Houghton Ludolph mind morning never night numbers o'er Otho pain pass pleasant pleasure poem poetry poor Reynolds Sigifred sister sleep soft song sonnet soon soul speak spirit sweet Teignmouth tell thee thine thing THOMAS KEATS thou thought to-day to-morrow town trees verses voice walk Wentworth Place wings wish words write written wrote yesterday
Popular passages
Page 203 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, — While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day...
Page 125 - O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Page 146 - Do not all charms fly At the mere touch of cold philosophy? There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: We know her woof, her texture; she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine — Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile made The tender-person'd Lamia melt into a shade.
Page 203 - Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind ; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath...
Page 135 - Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that ofttimes hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Page 33 - THE poetry of earth is never dead : When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead ; That is the Grasshopper's — he takes the lead In summer luxury, — he has never done With his delights ; for when tired out with fun He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
Page 33 - The poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead: That is the grasshopper's — he takes the lead In summer luxury, — he has never done With his delights, for when tired out with fun, He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed. The poetry of earth...
Page 125 - Who are these coming to the sacrifice? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
Page 125 - Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Page 117 - Eve — Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold; The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold: Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told His rosary, and while his frosted breath, Like pious incense from a censer old, Seem'd taking flight for heaven, without a death, Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith.