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No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Light
Fell
Much
Seeds
Robs
Life
Grass
Feather
Summer
Stir
Air
Leafs
Dead
Leaf
Rest
Feathers
Nature
Seed
More quotes by John Keats
I have so much of you in my heart.
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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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Even bees, the little almsmen of spring bowers, know there is richest juice in poison-flowers.
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And how they kist each other's tremulous eyes.
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The Public - a thing I cannot help looking upon as an enemy, and which I cannot address without feelings of hostility.
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What is there in thee, Moon! That thou should'st move My heart so potently?
John Keats
Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.
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When I have fears that I may ceace to be, Before my pen has gleaned my teaming brain.
John Keats
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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I never can feel certain of any truth, but from a clear perception of its beauty.
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You are always new to me.
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A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
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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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Many have original minds who do not think it - they are led away by custom!
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But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.
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But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings That fill the sky with silver glitterings!
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...I leaped headlong into the Sea, and thereby have become more acquainted with the Soundings, the quicksands, and the rocks, than if I had stayed upon the green shore, and piped a silly pipe, and took tea and comfortable advice.
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She press'd his hand in slumber so once more He could not help but kiss her and adore.
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Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.
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Nothing is finer for the purposes of great productions than a very gradual ripening of the intellectual powers.
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