All Poems
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To The Nile
© John Keats
Son of the old Moon-mountains African!
Chief of the Pyramid and Crocodile!
We call thee fruitful, and that very while
A desert fills our seeing's inward span:
Ode To Autumn
© John Keats
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
Think Of It Not, Sweet One
© John Keats
Think not of it, sweet one, so;---
Give it not a tear;
Sigh thou mayst, and bid it go
Any---anywhere.
Meg Merrilies
© John Keats
Old Meg she was a Gipsy,
And liv'd upon the Moors:
Her bed it was the brown heath turf,
And her house was out of doors.
A Dream, After Reading Dante's Episode Of Paolo And Francesca
© John Keats
As Hermes once took to his feathers light,
When lulled Argus, baffled, swooned and slept,
So on a Delphic reed, my idle spright
So played, so charmed, so conquered, so bereft
Endymion: Book IV
© John Keats
Endymion to heaven's airy dome
Was offering up a hecatomb of vows,
When these words reach'd him. Whereupon he bows
His head through thorny-green entanglement
Of underwood, and to the sound is bent,
Anxious as hind towards her hidden fawn.
To Fanny
© John Keats
I cry your mercypitylove!aye, love!
Merciful love that tantalizes not,
One-thoughted, never-wandering, guileless love,
Unmasked, and being seenwithout a blot!
On Sitting Down To Read King Lear Once Again
© John Keats
O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute!
Fair plumed Syren! Queen of far away!
Leave melodizing on this wintry day,
Shut up thine olden pages, and be mute:
Hymn To Apollo
© John Keats
God of the golden bow,
And of the golden lyre,
And of the golden hair,
And of the golden fire,
If By Dull Rhymes Our English Must Be Chain'd
© John Keats
If by dull rhymes our English must be chain'd,
And, like Andromeda, the Sonnet sweet
Fetter'd, in spite of pained loveliness;
Let us find out, if we must be constrain'd,
O Solitude! If I Must With Thee Dwell
© John Keats
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 observatorywhence the dell,
Hither, Hither, Love
© John Keats
Hither hither, love---
'Tis a shady mead---
Hither, hither, love!
Let us feed and feed!
To A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown
© John Keats
Fresh morning gusts have blown away all fear
From my glad bosom,now from gloominess
I mount for evernot an atom less
Than the proud laurel shall content my bier.
The Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are Gone
© John Keats
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast,
Warm breath, light whisper, tender semitone,
Bright eyes, accomplished shape, and lang'rous waist!
Written On A Summer Evening
© John Keats
The church bells toll a melancholy round,
Calling the people to some other prayers,
Some other gloominess, more dreadful cares,
More harkening to the sermon's horrid sound.
Epistle To My Brother George
© John Keats
Full many a dreary hour have I past,
My brain bewildered, and my mind o'ercast
With heaviness; in seasons when I've thought
No spherey strains by me could e'er be caught
Happy Is England! I Could Be Content
© John Keats
Happy is England! I could be content
To see no other verdure than its own;
To feel no other breezes than are blown
Through its tall woods with high romances blent;
To A Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses
© John Keats
As late I rambled in the happy fields,
What time the skylark shakes the tremulous dew
From his lush clover covert;when anew
Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields;
Why Did I Laugh Tonight? No Voice Will Tell
© John Keats
Why did I laugh tonight? No voice will tell:
No God, no Demon of severe response,
Deigns to reply from Heaven or from Hell.
Then to my human heart I turn at once.
On Seeing The Elgin Marbles For The First Time
© John Keats
My spirit is too weak; mortality
Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep,
And each imagined pinnacle and steep
Of godlike hardship tells me I must die
