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John Keats: To Autumn
Ode on indolenceOdeTo Autumn Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that…John Keats: Ode
To AutumnSonnetsOde Bards of Passion and of Mirth, Ye have left your souls on earth! Have ye souls in heaven too, Double-lived in regions new? Yes, and those of heaven commune With the…John Keats: After dark vapours have oppressâÂÂd our plains
Bright star! would I were sted...After dark vapours have oppress'd our plains After dark vapours have oppress’d our plains For a long dreary season, comes a day Born of the gentle South,…John Keats: On a Leander Gem Which a Young Lady Gave the Author
On a DreamOn Seeing the Elgin MarblesOn a Leander Gem Which a Young Lady Gave the Author Come hither all sweet maidens soberly, Down-looking, aye, and with a chasten’d light Hid in the…John Keats: On Seeing the Elgin Marbles
On a Leander Gem Which a Young...On Sitting Down to Read King L...On Seeing the Elgin Marbles My spirit is too weak—mortality Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep, And each imagined…John Keats: On Sitting Down to Read King Lear Once Again
On Seeing the Elgin MarblesOn the SeaOn Sitting Down to Read King Lear Once Again O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute! Fair plumed Syren! Queen of far away! Leave melodizing on this…John Keats: On the Sea
On Sitting Down to Read King L...On Visiting the Tomb of BurnsOn the Sea It keeps eternal whisperings around Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell Gluts twice ten thousand caverns,…John Keats: On Visiting the Tomb of Burns
On the SeaSpenser! a jealous honourer of thine,On Visiting the Tomb of Burns The town, the churchyard, and the setting sun, The clouds, the trees, the rounded hills all seem, Though…John Keats: Spenser! a jealous honourer of thine,
On Visiting the Tomb of BurnsTo -Spenser! a jealous honourer of thine, Spenser! a jealous honourer of thine, A forester deep in thy midmost trees, Did last eve ask my promise to refine…John Keats: To -
Spenser! a jealous honourer of thine,To Ailsa RockTo - Time’s sea hath been five years at its slow ebb, Long hours have to and fro let creep the sand, Since I was tangled in thy beauty’s…Trending
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