Category John Keats

Which seeing, his high court of parliament

Which seeing, his high court of parliament Laid a remonstrance at his Highness’ feet, Praying his royal senses to content Themselves with what in faery land was sweet. Befitting best that shade with shade should meet Whereat, to calm their…

This was a crime forbidden by the law;

This was a crime forbidden by the law; And all the priesthood of his city wept. For ruin and dismay they well foresaw. If impious prince no bound or limit kept. And faery Zendervester overstept; They wept, he sinn’d, and…

In midmost Ind, beside Hydaspes cool,

In midmost Ind, beside Hydaspes cool, There stood, or hover’d, tremulous in the air, A faery city, ‘neath the potent rule Of Emperor Elfinan ; fam’d ev’rywhere For love of mortal women, maidens fair. Whose lips were solid, whose soft…

On Hearing The Bag-Pipe And Seeing

ON HEARING THE BAG-PIPE AND SEEING ‘ THE STRANGER’ PLAYED AT INVERARY Of late two dainties were before me plac’d Sweet, holy, pure, sacred and innocent, From the ninth sphere to me benignly sent That Gods might know my own…

The Gadfly

1. All gentle folks who owe a grudge To any living thing Open your ears and stay your t[r]udge Whilst I in dudgeon sing. 2. The Gadfly he hath stung me sore– O may he ne’er sting you! But we…

To Thomas Keats

Ah ! ken ye what I met the day Out oure the Mountains A coming down by craggies gray An mossie fountains — Ah goud-hair’d Marie yeve I pray Ane minute’s guessing — For that I met upon the way…

A Song About Myself

I. There was a naughty boy, A naughty boy was he, He would not stop at home, He could not quiet be- He took In his knapsack A book Full of vowels And a shirt With some towels, A slight…

Meg Merrilies

Old Meg she was a Gipsy,        And liv’d upon the Moors: Her bed it was the brown heath turf,        And her house was out of doors. Her apples were swart blackberries,        Her currants pods o’ broom; Her…

Acrostic: Georgiana Augusta Keats

Give me your patience, sister, while I frame Exact in capitals your golden name; Or sue the fair Apollo and he will Rouse from his heavy slumber and instill Great love in me for thee and Poesy. Imagine not that…