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But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings That fill the sky with silver glitterings!

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Fill
Thee
Wings
Sky
Heaven
Stoop
Stoops
Silver

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Knowledge enormous makes a god of me.
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Poetry should surprise by a fine excess and not by singularity, it should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance.
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So rainbow-sided, touch'd with miseries, She seem'd, at once, some penanced lady elf, Some demon's mistress, or the demon's self.
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Love in a hut, with water and a crust, Is - Love, forgive us! - cinders, ashes, dust.
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In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook, Thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo's summer look But with a sweet forgetting, They stay their crystal fretting, Never, never petting About the frozen time.
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What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the chameleon poet.
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I have good reason to be content, for thank God I can read and perhaps understand Shakespeare to his depths.
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The thought, the deadly thought of solitude.
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How does the poet speak to men with power, but by being still more a man than they
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