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John Keats: To Kosciusko
by JohnKeatsOn the Grasshopper and CricketHappy is England! I could be contentTo Kosciusko Good Kosciusko, thy great name alone Is a full harvest whence to reap high feeling; It comes…John Keats: Happy is England! I could be content
by JohnKeatsTo KosciuskoHappy is England! I could be content Happy is England! I could be content To see no other verdure than its own; To feel no other breezes than are blown Through…John Keats: To * * * * * *
by JohnKeatsTo My Brother GeorgeWritten on the day that Mr. Le...To * * * * * * Had I a man's fair form, then might my sighs Be echoed swiftly through that ivory shell, Thine ear, and…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…