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John Keats: Isabella; or, The Pot of Basil

by John Keats LamiaThe Eve of St. AgnesIsabella; or, The Pot of Basil A Story from Boccaccio Fair Isabel, poor simple Isabel! Lorenzo, a young palmer in Love's eye! They could…

John Keats: The Eve of St. Agnes

by John Keats Isabella; or, The Pot of BasilPoemsThe Eve of St. Agnes St. Agnes' Eve — Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold; The hare…

John Keats: Ode to a Nightingale

by John Keats Ode on a Grecian UrnOde to a Nightingale My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the…

John Keats: Ode on a Grecian Urn

by John Keats Ode to a NightingaleOde to PsycheOde on a Grecian Urn Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who…

John Keats: Ode to Psyche

by John Keats Ode on a Grecian UrnFancyOde to Psyche O Goddess! hear these tuneless numbers, wrung By sweet enforcement and remembrance dear, And pardon that thy secrets should…

John Keats: Fancy

by John Keats Ode to PsycheBards of passion and of mirthFancy Ever let the Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home: At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth, Like to bubbles when rain…

John Keats: Bards of passion and of mirth

by John Keats FancyLines on the Mermaid TavernBards of passion and of mirth Bards of passion and of mirth, Ye have left your souls on earth! Have ye souls in heaven too, Double-…

John Keats: Lines on the Mermaid Tavern

by John Keats Bards of passion and of mirthRobin HoodLines on the Mermaid Tavern Souls of poets dead and gone, What elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer…

John Keats: Robin Hood

by John Keats Lines on the Mermaid TavernTo AutumnRobin Hood To a Friend No! those days are gone away, And their hours are old and gray, And their minutes buried all Under the…

John Keats: Ode on Melancholy

by John Keats To AutumnOde on Melancholy No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist Wolf's-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine; Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss'd…