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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.
John Keats
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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
River
Eyed
Fish
Tail
Fishes
Tails
Vermilion
Boat
Spells
Gauze
Golden
Rainbow
Silvery
Rivers
Charming
Finn
Sea
Lakes
Sided
Clear
Fishing
Potent
More quotes by John Keats
How beautiful, if sorrow had not made Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self.
John Keats
That which is creative must create itself.
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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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Stop and consider! life is but a day
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I have so much of you in my heart.
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Knowledge enormous makes a God of me. Names, deeds, gray legends, dire events, rebellions, Majesties, sovran voices, agonies, Creations and destroyings, all at once Pour into the wide hollows of my brain, And deify me, as if some blithe wine Or bright elixir peerless I had drunk, And so become immortal.
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You are always new. The last of your kisses was even the sweetest the last smile the brightest the last movement the gracefullest.
John Keats
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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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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O for the gentleness of old Romance, the simple planning of a minstrel's song!
John Keats
I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.
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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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Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards, And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.
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Some say the world is a vale of tears, I say it is a place of soul-making.
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The opinion I have of the generality of women--who appear to me as children to whom I would rather give a sugar plum than my time, forms a barrier against matrimony which I rejoice in.
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It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores
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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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Scenery is fine - but human nature is finer.
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The world is too brutal for me-I am glad there is such a thing as the grave-I am sure I shall never have any rest till I get there.
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Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.
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