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Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering?

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Loitering
Knight
Knights
Thee
Arms
Alone

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The poetry of earth is never dead When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide I cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead.
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I myself am pursuing the same instinctive course as the veriest human animal you can think of I am, however young, writing at random straining at particles of light in the midst of a great darkness without knowing the bearing of any one assertion, of any one opinion. Yet may I not in this be free from sin?
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Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream, And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by? ---On death
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Then felt I like some watcher of the skies when a new planet swims into his ken.
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Dry your eyes O dry your eyes, For I was taught in Paradise To ease my breast of melodies.
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A poet is the most unpoetical of anything in existence because he has no identity he is continually informing and filling some other body.
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... the open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown - the Air is our robe of state - the Earth is our throne, and the Sea a mighty minstrel playing before it.
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When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance.
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