Fancy (John Keats Poems)
Ever let the Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home: At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth, Like to bubbles when rain pelteth; Then let ...
Ever let the Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home: At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth, Like to bubbles when rain pelteth; Then let ...
Sweet, drooping, azure tinted bells, How dear you are; Bringing the scent of shady dells, To me from far;Telling of spring and gladsome ...
CHORDS are touch'd by Apollo,--the death-laden bow, too, he bendeth;While he the shepherdess charms, Python he lays in the dust.-----WHAT ...
From time to time there is a warning voiceWhich, in the various shapes of grief and painAnd disappointment, gives us ...
Far off (no matter whether east or west,A real country, or one made in jest,Nor yet by modern Mandevilles disgraced,Nor ...
ON Dinan's walls the morning sunlight plays, Gilds the stern fortress with a crown of rays, Shines on the children's ...
Sweet rural scene Of flocks and green! At careless ease my limbs are spread; All nature still, But yonder rill; ...
Ye lovely maids! whose yet unpractis'd heartsNe'er felt the force of Love's resistless darts;Who justly set a value on your ...
A Dramatic Lyric. A BACHELOR of common type, I sit me down before the fire And take my after-dinner pipe, ...
I.We passed the low stone wall, and stoodBeside the heedless dead,That lay 'unknowing and unknown'Each in his narrow bed --O'er ...
And should she die, her grave should beUpon the bare top of a sunny hill,Among the moorlands of her own ...
The fresh young leaves are coming, Dear!In the genial prime of May; And the bees in the blooms are humming, ...
The miser sits beside his hoard, The lover tarries by his bride,And he who neither may afford Is free to ...
The melody of birds is in her voice. The lake is not more crystal than her eyes, In whose brown ...
Ever let the Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home: At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth, Like to bubbles when ...
ENDYMION. A Poetic Romance. "THE STRETCHED METRE OF AN AN ANTIQUE SONG." INSCRIBED TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS CHATTERTON. Book ...
From me, my Dear, O seek not to receive What e'en deep-read Experience cannot give. We may, indeed, from the ...
CHORDS are touch'd by Apollo,--the death-laden bow, too, he bendeth; While he the shepherdess charms, Python he lays in the ...
CHILD, when they say that others Have been or are like you, Babes fit to be your brothers, Sweet human ...
O DULL cold northern sky, O brawling sabbath bells, O feebly twittering Autumn bird that tells The year is like ...
AH! think no more that Life's delusive joys, Can charm my thoughts from FRIENDSHIP'S dearer claim; Or wound a heart, ...
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