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Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them thou has thy music too.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Songs
Song
Music
Think
Thinking
Thou
Spring

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Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter therefore, ye soft pipes, play on Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone.
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I do think better of womankind than to suppose they care whether Mister John Keats five feet high likes them or not.
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Why employ intelligent and highly paid ambassadors and then go and do their work for them? You don't buy a canary and sing yourself.
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I have so much of you in my heart.
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She hurried at his words, beset with fears, For there were sleeping dragons all around.
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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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Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget.
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Many have original minds who do not think it - they are led away by custom!
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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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Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, Flushing his brow.
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Scenery is fine - but human nature is finer.
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There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality.
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Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
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As the Swiss inscription says: Sprechen ist silbern, Schweigen ist golden,- Speech is silvern, Silence is golden or, as I might rather express it, Speech is of Time, Silence is of Eternity.
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My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.... I never felt my mind repose upon anything with complete and undistracted enjoyment- upon no person but you. When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of window: you always concentrate my whole senses
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Everything that reminds me of her goes through me like a spear.
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Feeling well that breathed words Would all be lost, unheard, and vain as swords Against the enchased crocodile, or leaps Of grasshoppers against the sun.
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