Fame, like a wayward Giri, will still be coy
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
O! Were I one of the Olympian twelve
To the Ladies who Saw Me Crown’d
A Prophecy: to George Keats in America
Song: Spirit here that reignest!
I Stood Tip-toe Upon a Little Hill
To One Who Has Been Long in City Pent
Keen, Fitful Gusts are Whisp’ring Here and There
Lines Supposed to Have Been Addressed to Fanny Brawne
Specimen of an Induction to a Poem
O Solitude! If I Must With Thee Dwell
Song of Four Faeries - Fire, Air, Earth, and Water -
How fever’d is the man, who cannot look
On Receiving a Curious Shell, And a Copy of Verses, From the Same Ladies
Life of John Keats by Sidney Colvin
Life, letters, and literary remains, of John Ketas by Richard Monckton Milnes
Poems:
Ode
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 spheres of sun and moon;
With the noise of fountains wond’rous,
And the parle of voices thund’rous;
With the whisper of heaven’s trees
And one another, in soft ease Seated on Elysian lawns
Brows’d by none but Dian’s fawns
Underneath large bluebells tented,
Where the daisies are rose-scented,
And the rose herself has got
Perfume which on earth is not;
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, tranced thing,