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John Keats: Written on the day that Mr. Leigh Hunt left Prison
by JohnKeatsTo * * * * * *How many bards gild the lapses of time!Written on the day that Mr. Leigh Hunt left Prison What though, for showing truth to flatter'd state Kind Hunt was shut…John Keats: How many bards gild the lapses of time!
by JohnKeatsWritten on the day that Mr. Le...To a Friend who sent me some RosesHow many bards gild the lapses of time! How many bards gild the lapses of time! A few of them have ever…John Keats: To a Friend who sent me some Roses
by JohnKeatsHow many bards gild the lapses of time!To G. A. W.To a Friend who sent me some Roses As late I rambled in the happy fields, What time the sky-lark shakes the tremulous dew…John Keats: To G. A. W.
by JohnKeatsTo a Friend who sent me some RosesO Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,To G. A. W. Nymph of the downward smile, and sidelong glance, In what diviner moments of the day Art…John Keats: O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,
by JohnKeatsTo G. A. W.To My BrothersO Solitude! if I must with thee dwell, O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap Of murky buildings; climb with…John Keats: To My Brothers
by JohnKeatsO Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,Keen, fitful gusts are whisp'r...To My Brothers Small, busy flames play through the fresh laid coals, And their faint cracklings o'er…John Keats: Keen, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there
by JohnKeatsTo My BrothersTo one who has been long in city pent,Keen, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there Keen, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there Among the bushes half…John Keats: Sonnets
by JohnKeatsEpistlesSleep and PoetrySonnetsTo My Brother GeorgeTo * * * * * *Written on the day that Mr. Leigh Hunt left PrisonHow many bards gild the lapses of time!To a Friend who sent me some…John Keats: Sleep and Poetry
by JohnKeatsSonnetsChaucerSleep and Poetry "As I lay in my bed slepe full unmete Was unto me, but why that I ne might Rest I ne wist, for there n'as erthly wight [As I suppose] had more of…John Keats: Chaucer
by JohnKeatsSleep and PoetryChaucer What is more gentle than a wind in summer? What is more soothing than the pretty hummer That stays one moment in an open flower, And buzzes cheerily…Trending
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