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Stop and consider! life is but a day

John Keats

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John Keats
Age: 25 †
Born: 1795
Born: October 31
Died: 1821
Died: February 23
Judge-Rapporteur
Physician
Poet
Consider
Stop
Life

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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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That queen of secrecy, the violet.
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Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.
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Open afresh your rounds of starry folds, Ye ardent Marigolds.
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Load every rift with ore.
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To stay youthful, stay useful.
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An extensive knowledge is needful to thinking people-it takes away the heat and fever and helps, by widening speculation, to ease the burden of the mystery.
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I will imagine you Venus tonight and pray, pray, pray to your star like a Heathen.
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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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All writing is a form of prayer.
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I find I cannot exist without Poetry
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O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap Of murky buildings: climb with me the steep,-- Nature's observatory--whence the dell, In flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell, May seem a span let me thy vigils keep 'Mongst boughs pavilion'd, where the deer's swift leap Startles the wild bee from the foxglove bell.
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Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.
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Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget.
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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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--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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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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Faded the flower and all its budded charms,Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise!Vanishd unseasonably
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Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music:--do I wake or sleep?
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Their woes gone by, and both to heaven upflown, To bow for gratitude before Jove's throne.
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