I see a lily on thy brow, With anguish moist and fever dew; And on thy cheek a fading rose Fast withereth too.
John KeatsThe poetry of earth is never dead When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide I cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead.
John KeatsThe only means of strengthening one's intellect is to make up one's mind about nothing, to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts.
John KeatsI compare human life to a large mansion of many apartments, two of which I can only describe, the doors of the rest being as yet shut upon me.
John Keats