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Dec 22, 2017 · Many more great poems haven’t made it, but here is our choice of the ten greatest poems by John Keats. 10. “Fancy” (1818) Inspired by the garden at Wentworth Place, this poem makes the list because it affords us a window into Keats’ creative process.
Beyond his precise sense of the difficulties presented him in his own literary-historical moment, he developed with unparalleled rapidity, in a relative handful of extraordinary poems, a rich, powerful, and exactly controlled poetic style that ranks Keats, with the William Shakespeare of the sonnets, as one of the greatest lyric poets in English.
Mar 20, 2017 · 1. ‘ Ode to Psyche ’. Yes, I will be thy priest, and build a fane. In some untrodden region of my mind, Where branched thoughts, new grown with pleasant pain, Instead of pines shall murmur in the wind … The earliest of Keats’s 1819 odes, ‘Ode to Psyche’ is about the Greek embodiment of the soul and mind, Psyche.
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John Keats was a key English Romantic poet born in London in 1795. Often compared to contemporaries like Lord Byron and Percy Bysshe Shelley, his works have become timeless classics. Despite facing early criticism and having a limited audience during his lifetime, Keats’ influence has endured.
Ode to a Nightingale. By John Keats. My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains. My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains. One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness,— That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees.
Hyperion. By John Keats. (excerpt) BOOK I. Deep in the shady sadness of a vale. Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star, Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair; Forest on forest hung about his head. Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there,
Back to Previous. When I have Fears That I May Cease to Be. By John Keats. When I have fears that I may cease to be. Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain, Before high-pilèd books, in charactery, Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain; When I behold, upon the night’s starred face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
