one of the most mysterious of semi-speculations is, one would suppose, that of one Mind's imagining into another John Keats More Quotes by John Keats More Quotes From John Keats Some say the world is a vale of tears, I say it is a place of soul-making. John Keats tears soul world His religion at best is an anxious wish,-like that of Rabelais, a great Perhaps. John Keats anxious wish religion There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality. John Keats immortality awful heart ...yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From out dark spirits. John Keats shapes dark moving To Sorrow I bade good-morrow, And thought to leave her far away behind; But cheerly, cheerly, She loves me dearly: She is so constant to me, and so kind. John Keats sorrow kind love To Hope "When by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom; When no fair dreams before my 'mind's eye' flit, And the bare heath of life presents no bloom; Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head. John Keats eye dream sweet Alas! when passion is both meek and wild! John Keats alas meek passion Wherein lies happiness? In that which becks Our ready minds to fellowship divine, A fellowship with essence; till we shine, Full alchemiz’d, and free of space. Behold The clear religion of heaven! John Keats space essence lying She hurried at his words, beset with fears, For there were sleeping dragons all around. John Keats dragons sleep Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that ofttimes hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn. John Keats home heart song My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains/ My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk. John Keats sadness pain heart Should Disappointment, parent of Despair, Strive for her son to seize my careless heart; When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air, Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart: Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright, And fright him as the morning frightens night! John Keats disappointment morning sweet All clean and comfortable I sit down to write. John Keats clean comfort writing We have oftener than once endeavoured to attach some meaning to that aphorism, vulgarly imputed to Shaftesbury, which however we can find nowhere in his works, that "ridicule is the test of truth." John Keats aphorism tests truth In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicity. John Keats branches tree happiness The grandeur of the dooms We have imagined for the mighty dead. John Keats grandeur doom It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores John Keats shore whispering eternal Literary men are . . . a perpetual priesthood. John Keats priesthood perpetual men Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music:--do I wake or sleep? John Keats dream sleep past But were there ever any Writhed not at passed joy? John Keats joy
