Quote

O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet my song comes native with the warmth. O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet the Evening listens.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Song
Fret
Comes
Listens
Warmth
Native
Evening
None
Knowledge
War

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There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality.
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With a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration.
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The poetry of earth is never dead When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide I cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead.
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I love your hills and I love your dales, And I love your flocks a-bleating but oh, on the heather to lie together, With both our hearts a-beating!
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It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores
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I have two luxuries to brood over in my walks, your loveliness and the hour of my death. O that I could have possession of them both in the same minute.
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The air is all softness.
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I am sailing with thee through the dizzy sky! How beautiful thou art!
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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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A drainless shower Of light is poesy: 'tis the supreme of power 'Tis might half slumbering on its own right arm.
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it struck me what quality went to form a Man of Achievement, especially in Literature, and which Shakespeare possessed so enormously - I mean Negative Capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.
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Talking of Pleasure, this moment I was writing with one hand, and with the other holding to my Mouth a Nectarine - how good how fine. It went down all pulpy, slushy, oozy, all its delicious embonpoint melted down my throat like a large, beatified Strawberry.
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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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Every mental pursuit takes its reality and worth from the ardour of the pursuer.
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--then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
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A man's life of any worth is a continual allegory, and very few eyes can see the mystery of his life, a life like the scriptures, figurative.
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Darkling I listen and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Called him soft names in many a muse' d rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy!
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Severn - I - lift me up - I am dying - I shall die easy don't be frightened - be firm, and thank God it has come.
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Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.
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Knowledge enormous makes a god of me.
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