John Keats

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

Poems of John Keats

181. To A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown 1/13/2003
182. To Ailsa Rock 1/13/2003
183. To Autumn 12/31/2002
184. To Byron 1/3/2003
185. To Charles Cowden Clarke 3/23/2010
186. To Fanny 1/13/2003
187. To G.A.W. 1/13/2003
188. To George Felton Mathew 3/23/2010
189. To Haydon 1/3/2003
190. To Homer 12/31/2002
191. To Hope 12/31/2002
192. To John Hamilton Reynolds 1/13/2003
193. To Mrs Reynolds' Cat 1/3/2003
194. To My Brother George 1/13/2003
195. To My Brothers 1/3/2003
196. To one who has been long in city pent 12/31/2002
197. To Sleep 12/31/2002
198. To Solitude 12/31/2002
199. To Some Ladies 3/23/2010
200. To The Ladies Who Saw Me Crowned 3/23/2010

This Living Hand

This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold
And in the icy silence of the tomb,
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights
That thou wouldst wish thine own heart dry of blood
So in my veins red life might stream again,
And thou be conscience-calmed - see here it is -
I hold it towards you.

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