Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.
More Quotes from John Keats:
Why were they proud again we ask aloud, Why in the name of Glory were they proudJohn Keats
There's a blush for won t, and a blush for shan't, and a blush for having done it There's a blush for thought and a blush for naught, and a blush for just begun it.
John Keats
A solitary sorrow best befits Thy lips, and antheming a lonely grief.
John Keats
Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time.
John Keats
The only means of strengthening one's intellect is to make up one's mind about nothing, to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts.
John Keats
In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicity.
John Keats
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