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Dry your eyes O dry your eyes, For I was taught in Paradise To ease my breast of melodies.

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Eye
Breast
Dry
Breasts
Melody
Paradise
Ease
Taught
Eyes
Melodies

More quotes by John Keats

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I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections, and the truth of imagination.
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What is there in thee, Moon! That thou should'st move My heart so potently?
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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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I shall soon be laid in the quiet grave--thank God for the quiet grave--O! I can feel the cold earth upon me--the daisies growing over me--O for this quiet--it will be my first.
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Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards, And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.
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I will imagine you Venus tonight and pray, pray, pray to your star like a Heathen.
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The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide.
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I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart’s affections and the truth of the Imagination – What the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth – whether it existed before or not – for I have the same Idea of all our Passions as of Love they are all in their sublime, creative of essential Beauty . . .
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The air is all softness.
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The only means of strengthening one's intellect is to make up one's mind about nothing, to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts.
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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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In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicity.
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Stop and consider! life is but a day
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The thought, the deadly thought of solitude.
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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 redbreast whistles from a garden-croft and gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
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A man should have the fine point of his soul taken off to become fit for this world.
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Scenery is fine - but human nature is finer.
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one of the most mysterious of semi-speculations is, one would suppose, that of one Mind's imagining into another
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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.
John Keats