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I will imagine you Venus tonight and pray, pray, pray to your star like a Heathen.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Praying
Imagine
Stars
Like
Heathen
Venus
Tonight
Pray
Star
More quotes by John Keats
Call the world if you please the vale of soul-making. Then you will find out the use of the world.
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Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.
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What is there in thee, Moon! That thou should'st move My heart so potently?
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My imagination is a monastery and I am its monk.
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I don't need the stars in the night I found my treasure All I need is you by my side so shine forever
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Even bees, the little almsmen of spring bowers, know there is richest juice in poison-flowers.
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Every mental pursuit takes its reality and worth from the ardour of the pursuer.
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was it a vision or a waking dream? Fled is that music--do I wake or sleep?
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And shade the violets, That they may bind the moss in leafy nets.
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Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
John Keats
If I should die, I have left no immortal work behind me — nothing to make my friends proud of my memory — but I have loved the principle of beauty in all things, and if I had had time I would have made myself remembered.
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Dancing music, music sad, Both together, sane and mad.
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The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide.
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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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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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Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.
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The world is too brutal for me-I am glad there is such a thing as the grave-I am sure I shall never have any rest till I get there.
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She hurried at his words, beset with fears, For there were sleeping dragons all around.
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Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time.
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A moment's thought is passion's passing knell.
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