Quote

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.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Dead
Birds
Tree
Hide
Voice
Hot
Running
Trees
Mead
Earth
Environmental
Grasshoppers
Never
Bird
Cooling
Sun
Hedge
Poetry
Faint

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My love is selfish. I cannot breathe without you.
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Four seasons fill the measure of the year there are four seasons in the minds of men.
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There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality.
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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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Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, Flushing his brow.
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It ought to come like the leaves to the trees, or it better not come at all.
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We have woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.
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I came to feel how far above All fancy, pride, and fickle maidenhood, All earthly pleasure, all imagined good, Was the warm tremble of a devout kiss.
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Feeling well that breathed words Would all be lost, unheard, and vain as swords Against the enchased crocodile, or leaps Of grasshoppers against the sun.
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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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Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.
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