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6 de may. de 2024 · When last the winds of heaven were unbound. Oh ye! who have your eye-balls vex'd and tir'd, Feast them upon the wideness of the Sea; Oh ye! whose ears are dinn'd with uproar rude, Or fed too much with cloying melody ,--. Sit ye near some old cavern's mouth, and brood. Until ye start, as if the sea-nymphs quir'd! John Keats.
Hace 3 días · But every morn of woodbine fresh. She made her garlanding, And every night the dark glen Yew. She wove, and she would sing. And with her fingers old and brown. She plaited Mats o' Rushes, And gave them to the Cottagers. She met among the Bushes. Old Meg was brave as Margaret Queen.
Hace 2 días · 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 above his head. Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day. Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass,
4 de may. de 2024 · Ode 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 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.
30 de abr. de 2024 · Shed no tear! oh, shed no tear! The flower will bloom another year. Weep no more! oh, weep no more! Young buds sleep in the root's white core. Dry your eyes! oh, dry your eyes! For I was taught in Paradise. To ease my breast of melodies,-. Shed no tear.
Hace 21 horas · John Keats in 1819 when he lived at Wentworth Place. Wentworth Place, completed 1816 as one of the first houses to be built in Lower Hampstead Heath. John Keats lived here. In John Keats’ study. The right hand room on the ground floor was John Keats’ study and the room above was his bedroom.
Hace 2 días · The poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run. From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead; That is the Grasshopper's-he takes the lead. In summer luxury,-he has never done. With his delights; for when tired out with fun. He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
