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I have so much of you in my heart.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Adoption
Romantic
Poetry
Heart
Much
Love

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To stay youthful, stay useful.
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Sometimes goldfinches one by one will drop From low hung branches little space they stop But sip, and twitter, and their feathers sleek Then off at once, as in a wanton freak: Or perhaps, to show their black, and golden wings Pausing upon their yellow flutterings.
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I have loved the principle of beauty in all things.
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Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.
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Time, that aged nurse, Rocked me to patience.
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All writing is a form of prayer.
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There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: We know her woof, her texture she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.
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All my clear-eyed fish, Golden, or rainbow-sided, or purplish, Vermilion-tail'd, or finn'd with silvery gauze... My charming rod, my potent river spells.
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The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide.
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Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time.
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Scenery is fine - but human nature is finer.
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Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host's Canary wine?
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I am in that temper that if I were under water I would scarcely kick to come to the top.
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Whatever the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth -whether it existed before or not
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An extensive knowledge is needful to thinking people-it takes away the heat and fever and helps, by widening speculation, to ease the burden of the mystery.
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I would jump down Etna for any public good - but I hate a mawkish popularity.
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Here are sweet peas, on tiptoe for a flight With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white, And taper fingers catching at all things, To bind them all about with tiny rings.
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A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
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... the open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown - the Air is our robe of state - the Earth is our throne, and the Sea a mighty minstrel playing before it.
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Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.
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