John Keats

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

John Keats Poems

161. Spenserian Stanza. Written At The Close Of Canto Ii, Book V, Of 3/23/2010
162. Spenserian Stanzas On Charles Armitage Brown 3/23/2010
163. Staffa 3/23/2010
164. Stanzas 1/4/2003
165. Stanzas To Miss Wylie 3/23/2010
166. Stanzas. In A Drear-Nighted December 3/29/2010
167. Teignmouth 3/29/2010
168. The Cap And Bells; Or, The Jealousies: A Faery Tale -- Unfinished 3/23/2010
169. The Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are Gone 1/13/2003
170. The Devon Maid: Stanzas Sent In A Letter To B. R. Haydon 3/23/2010
171. The Eve Of Saint Mark. A Fragment 3/23/2010
172. The Eve Of St. Agnes 12/31/2002
173. The Gadfly 3/23/2010
174. The Human Seasons 12/31/2002
175. Think Of It Not, Sweet One 12/31/2002
176. This Living Hand 1/3/2003
177. To **** 3/23/2010
178. To -------. 3/23/2010
179. To A Cat 1/7/2015
180. To A Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses 1/13/2003
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 With A Sonnet Written On Seeing The Elgin Marbles 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
Best Poem of John Keats

A Thing Of Beauty (Endymion)

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkn'd ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, ...

Read the full of A Thing Of Beauty (Endymion)

To My Brothers

Small, busy flames play through the fresh laid coals,
And their faint cracklings o'er our silence creep
Like whispers of the household gods that keep
A gentle empire o'er fraternal souls.
And while, for rhymes, I search around the poles,
Your eyes are fix d, as in poetic sleep,
Upon the lore so voluble and deep,
That aye at fall of night our care condoles.
This is your birth-day Tom, and I rejoice

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