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Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Away
Dream
Sleepy
Time
Paths
Twilight
Buried
Summer
Dreams
Path

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The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide.
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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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Nothing is finer for the purposes of great productions than a very gradual ripening of the intellectual powers.
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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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was it a vision or a waking dream? Fled is that music--do I wake or sleep?
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That queen of secrecy, the violet.
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A moment's thought is passion's passing knell.
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