John Keats

(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821 / London, England)

Comments about John Keats

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  • Subrata Ray (2/25/2010 9:43:00 AM)

    Keats is an artist.He is original in his own way.He leaves no theory of poetry as Wordsworth does.His conception of beauty as revealed in Ode to Grecian Urn is a discovery.
    His few poems bear with them the stamp of his genius.Every where, we find, the qualities like, Medieval ism, Hellenism, word-painting, sensuousness, and aestheticism, etc.The ode to Nightingale, seems to be the representative poem of the poet.
    Had Keats not an earlier death, he could have contributed to the world the fruits of his excellency.
    Subrata Ray.Mousumipara.Uluberia.West.Bengal.India.

    8 person liked.
    6 person did not like.
  • Abel Enokela (2/5/2010 6:22:00 AM)

    John Keats is great poet; though dead he is still a great influence in poetry in all ages

  • Lalit Patel (7/31/2009 11:12:00 PM)

    Dear Sir,

    I need similar poems of the Human Seasons. Pls mail me as earlier becos its very urgent for me

    Thanks

  • Silly Tony (5/6/2009 11:32:00 PM)

    John Keats, a beautiful name, a handsome man, during his short life created a lot of memorable poems.

  • p.a. noushad (8/1/2008 3:48:00 AM)

    your poems I read again and again, a nice experience.

  • p.a. noushad (8/1/2008 3:40:00 AM)

    your poems are heart touching and romantic.

  • Rohan R (7/29/2008 10:01:00 AM)

    Gifted poet that touches the painful hearts

  • p.a. noushad (7/14/2008 3:58:00 AM)

    Dear keats I love your poems again and again.

  • p.a. noushad (6/14/2008 1:44:00 AM)

    romantic touch with painful realities.

  • Javier Alonso (6/7/2008 10:12:00 PM)

    great use of imagery.
    you definitely got me to imagine everything going on

    good job!

To Mrs Reynolds' Cat

Cat! who hast pass’d thy grand climacteric,
How many mice and rats hast in thy days
Destroy’d? How many tit bits stolen? Gaze
With those bright languid segments green, and prick
Those velvet ears - but pr’ythee do not stick
Thy latent talons in me - and upraise
Thy gentle mew - and tell me all thy frays,
Of fish and mice, and rats and tender chick.
Nay, look not down, nor lick thy dainty wrists -

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