To one who has been long in city pent, โTis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven, โ to breathe a prayer Full in the smile of the blue firmament.
John KeatsShould Disappointment, parent of Despair, Strive for her son to seize my careless heart; When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air, Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart: Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright, And fright him as the morning frightens night!
John KeatsMy mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.
John KeatsI should write for the mere yearning and fondness I have for the beautiful, even if my night's labors should be burnt every morning and no eye shine upon them.
John Keats