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It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Around
Whisperings
Shores
Desolate
Whispering
Shore
Keeps
Eternal

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Four seasons fill the measure of the year there are four seasons in the minds of men.
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I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for their religion-- I have shuddered at it, I shudder no more. I could be martyred for my religion. Love is my religion and I could die for that. I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet.
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Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong, And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song.
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You are always new. The last of your kisses was even the sweetest the last smile the brightest the last movement the gracefullest.
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You are always new to me.
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The Public - a thing I cannot help looking upon as an enemy, and which I cannot address without feelings of hostility.
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Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.
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O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet my song comes native with the warmth. O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet the Evening listens.
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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 have loved the principle of beauty in all things.
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A long poem is a test of invention which I take to be the Polar star of poetry, as fancy is the sails, and imagination the rudder.
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Praise or blame has but a momentary effect on the man whose love of beauty in the abstract makes him a severe critic on his own works.
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Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.
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... Who alive can say 'Thou art no Poet - mayst not tell thy dreams'? Since every man whose soul is not a clod Hath visions, and would speak, if he had loved, And been well nurtured in his mother tongue.
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