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John Keats

John Keats

Written Before Re

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.
Adieu! for once again the fierce dispute
Betwixt damnation and impassioned clay
Must I burn through; once more humbly assay
The bitter-sweet of this Shakespearian fruit.
Chief Poet! and ye clouds of Albion,
Begetters of our deep eternal theme,
When through the old oak Forest I am gone,
Let me not wander in a barren dream,
But when I am consumed in the Fire,
Give me new Phoenix wings to fly at my desire.

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Otras obras de John Keats...
Lines on the Mermaid Tavern

Souls of Poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine
 1
Sonnet to Mrs. Reynolds’s Cat

Cat! who hast pass’d thy grand cli… How many mice and rats hast in thy… Destroy’d? How many tit bits stol… With those bright languid segments… Those velvet ears—but pr’ythee do…
To Homer

Standing aloof in giant ignorance, Of thee I hear and of the Cyclade… As one who sits ashore and longs p… To visit dolphin—coral in deep sea… So thou wast blind;—but then the v…
A Draught of Sunshine

Hence Burgundy, Claret, and Port… Away with old Hock and madeira, Too earthly ye are for my sport; There’s a beverage brighter and cl… Instead of a piriful rummer,
Sonnet: After Dark Vapors Have Oppress’D Our Plains

After dark vapors have oppress’d o… For a long dreary season, comes a… Born of the gentle South, and cle… From the sick heavens all unseemly… The anxious month, relieved of its…
 1
Ode to a Nightingale

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbn… My sense, as though of hemlock I… Or emptied some dull opiate to the… One minute past, and Lethe-wards… ’Tis not through envy of thy happy…
 5
On Seeing the Elgin Marbles for the First Time

My spirit is too weak; mortality Weighs heavily on me like unwillin… And each imagined pinnacle and ste… Of godlike hardship tells me I mu… Like a sick eagle looking at the s…
 1
To the Nile

Son of the old Moon-mountains Afr… Chief of the Pyramid and Crocodil… We call thee fruitful, and that ve… A desert fills our seeing’s inward… Nurse of swart nations since the w…
Sleep and Poetry

As I lay in my bed slepe full unm… Was unto me, but why that I ne mi… Rest I ne wist, for there n’as er… [As I suppose] had more of hertis… Than I, for I n’ad sicknesse nor…
 1
Sonnet to Spenser

Spenser! a jealous honourer of thi… A forester deep in thy midmost tre… Did last eve ask my promise to ref… Some English that might strive th… But Elfin Poet 'tis impossible
 1
Stanzas to Miss Wylie

O come Georgiana! the rose is ful… The riches of Flora are lavishly… The air is all softness, and cryst… The West is resplendently clothed… O come! let us haste to the freshe…
 1
To Fanny

I cry your mercy—pity—love!—aye, l… Merciful love that tantalizes not, One-thoughted, never-wandering, gu… Unmasked, and being seen—without a… O! let me have thee whole,—all—all…
To the Ladies Who Saw Me Crowned

WHAT is there in the universal E… More lovely than a Wreath from th… Haply a Halo round the Moon a gle… Circling from three sweet pair of… And haply you will say the dewy bi…
To G.A.W.

Nymph of the downward smile and si… In what diviner moments of the day Art thou most lovely?—when gone fa… Into the labyrinths of sweet utter… Or when serenely wandering in a tr…
 1
The Eve of Saint Mark. a Fragment

Upon a Sabbath-day it fell; Twice holy was the Sabbath-bell That call’d the folk to evening pr… The city streets were clean and fa… From wholesome drench of April ra…



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