Sleep And Poetry (John Keats Poems)
As I lay in my bed slepe full unmeteWas unto me, but why that I ne mightRest I ne wist, ...
As I lay in my bed slepe full unmeteWas unto me, but why that I ne mightRest I ne wist, ...
From heaven, soul--like, to earth. It is sundown. MarkThe heart's state, empty and collapsed, the world'sVain pleasures leave us in, ...
Stand out, swift-footed leaders of the horns,And draw strong breath, and fill the hollowy cliffWith shocks of clamour, - let ...
MY Mother-land! thou wert the first to flingThy virgin flag of freedom to the breeze,The first to front along thy ...
'Twas at midnight, in the Desert, where we rested on the ground; There my Bedouins were sleeping, and their steeds were ...
We met on "Boston Common"-- Of course it was by chance-- A sudden, unexpected, But happy circumstance That gave the dull October day A beautiful, ...
IIn warlike pomp, with banners flowing, The regiments of autumn stood:I saw their gold and scarlet glowing From every hillside, every wood.Above ...
Faintly heard mutterings,Dimly seen flutterings,Crouching forms ... tangled hair,Withered limbs ... visage bare.Groping foot ... earth-bound rootSeek motion: Slowly shoot ...
WHEN fallen man from Paradise was driven, Forth to a world of labour, death, and care; Still, of his native ...
With leagues of wasteful water ringed about,And wrapped in sheeted foam from base to peak,A sheer, stupendous monolith, wrought outBy ...
THE air is thick, unclean and warm And filled with mutterings of a storm ; Spidery Fear a web he ...
HIGHWAY and lane lie parched and white;Foliage droops in the burning light ;Leaves are silent and meres like glass ;King-cups ...
ALL winter through I sat alone, Doors barred and windows shuttered fast, And listened to the wind's faint ...
THE small enlarged, the distant nearer broughtTo sight, made marvels in a denser age.But Science turns with every year a ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
There's no sense in going further -- it's the edge of cultivation," So they said, and I believed it -- ...
O Music hast thou only heard The laughing river, the singing bird, The murmuring wind in the poplar-trees,-- Nothing but ...
The manic fires flared again today, very much the same irrational urges blazing from the open grate, urgent fervours that ...
Something strange is creeping across me. La Celestina has only to warble the first few bars Of "I Thought about ...
So gradual in those summers was the going of the age it seemed that the long days setting out when ...
Aleta mentions in her tender letters, Among a chain of quaint and touching things, That you are feeble, weighted down ...
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