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O latest born and loveliest vision far of all Olympus' faded hierarchy.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Born
Loveliest
Olympus
Latest
Faded
Hierarchy
Vision

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He ne'er is crowned with immortality Who fears to follow where airy voices lead.
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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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My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains/ My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk.
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I should write for the mere yearning and fondness I have for the beautiful, even if my night's labors should be burnt every morning and no eye shine upon them.
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Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering?
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I have loved the principle of beauty in all things.
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There is nothing stable in the world uproar's your only music.
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I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.
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Its better to lose your ego to the One you Love than to lose the One you Love to your Ego
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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 wish you could invent some means to make me at all happy without you. Every hour I am more and more concentrated in you everything else tastes like chaff in my mouth.
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Let us away, my love, with happy speed There are no ears to hear, or eyes to see, - Drown'd all in Rhenish and the sleepy mead. Awake! arise! my love and fearless be, For o'er the southern moors I have a home for thee.
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O let me lead her gently o'er the brook, Watch her half-smiling lips and downward look O let me for one moment touch her wrist Let me one moment to her breathing list And as she leaves me, may she often turn Her fair eyes looking through her locks auburne.
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Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.
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A little noiseless noise among the leaves, Born of the very sigh that silence heaves.
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Failure is, in a sense, the highway to success.
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Then felt I like some watcher of the skies when a new planet swims into his ken.
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Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.
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I Cannot Exist Without You. I Am Forgetful Of Everything But Seeing You Again.
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The genius of Shakespeare was an innate university.
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