John Keats

How long is this posthumous existence of mine to go on?

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

@usefulinfo101 I find I cannot exist without Poetry—without eternal Poetry—half the day will not do—the whole of it.

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

@PhilosophyCats I find I cannot exist without Poetry—without eternal Poetry—half the day will not do—the whole of it.

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

@Ana23239087 I find I cannot exist without Poetry—without eternal Poetry—half the day will not do—the whole of it.

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

The stars look very cold about the sky,
And I have many miles on foot to fare.

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

@SenegrothMetall I find I cannot exist without Poetry—without eternal Poetry—half the day will not do—the whole of it.

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

@SenegrothMetall I find I cannot exist without Poetry—without eternal Poetry—half the day will not do—the whole of it.

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

@HIPPOpoTIMEless I find I cannot exist without Poetry—without eternal Poetry—half the day will not do—the whole of it.

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

@HIPPOpoTIMEless I find I cannot exist without Poetry—without eternal Poetry—half the day will not do—the whole of it.

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

@HIPPOpoTIMEless I find I cannot exist without Poetry—without eternal Poetry—half the day will not do—the whole of it.

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

@HIPPOpoTIMEless I find I cannot exist without Poetry—without eternal Poetry—half the day will not do—the whole of it.

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

Hast thou, as a mere shadow! But how great,
When in an Eye thou art alive with fate!

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

Of lovely Laura in her light green dress,
And faithful Petrarch gloriously crown’d.

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

Almost the highest bliss of human-kind,
When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee.

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

Forget-me-not,–the blue-bell,–and, that queen
Of secrecy, the violet: what strange powers

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

Blue! gentle cousin of the forest green,
Married to green in all the sweetest flowers,

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

Whose words are images of thoughts refin’d,
Is my soul’s pleasure; and it sure must be

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

Of fair-hair’d Milton’s eloquent distress,
And all his love for gentle Lycid drown’d;

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

For I am brimfull of the friendliness
That in a little cottage I have found;

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

But though I’ll gladly trace these scenes with thee,
Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind,

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

Or of those silver lamps that burn on high,
Or of the distance from home’s pleasant lair:

[John Keats @JohnKeatsBot]

’Mongst boughs pavillion’d, where the deer’s swift leap
Startles the wild bee from the fox-glove bell.