Section: «Poems»

Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings: artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.); a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").

A Party Of Lovers

Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes,Nibble their toast, and cool their tea with sighs,Or else forget the purpose of the night,Forget their..

© John Keats

A Draught Of Sunshine

Hence Burgundy, Claret, and Port,Away with old Hock and madeira,Too earthly ye are for my sport;There's a beverage brighter and clearer.Instead of a..

© John Keats

Give Me Women, Wine, And Snuff

GIVE me women, wine, and snuffUntill I cry out "hold, enough!"You may do so sans objectionTill the day of resurrection:For, bless my beard, they aye..

© John Keats

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,Alone and palely loitering?The sedge is withered from the lake,And no birds sing.Ah, what can ail thee..

© John Keats

Fancy

Ever let the Fancy roam,Pleasure never is at home:At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth,Like to bubbles when rain pelteth;Then let winged Fancy..

© John Keats

Written On A Summer Evening

The church bells toll a melancholy round,Calling the people to some other prayers,Some other gloominess, more dreadful cares,More harkening to the..

© John Keats

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 tookIn his knapsackA bookFull of vowelsAnd a..

© John Keats

His Last Sonnet

Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art! -Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,And watching, with eternal lids apart,Like Nature's..

© John Keats

Ode To Autumn

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;Conspiring with him how to load and blessWith fruit the vines that..

© John Keats

Ode On A Grecian Urn

Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,Sylvan historian, who canst thus expressA flowery tale more..

© John Keats

When I Have Fears That I May Cease to Be

When I have fears that I may cease to beBefore my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,Before high-piled books, in charactery,Hold like rich garners the..

© John Keats

Ode To A Nightingale

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness painsMy sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,Or emptied some dull opiate to the drainsOne minute past, and..

© John Keats

Bright Star

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art-Not in lone splendour hung aloft the nightAnd watching, with eternal lids apart,Like nature's patient..

© John Keats

A Thing Of Beauty (Endymion)

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:Its lovliness increases; it will neverPass into nothingness; but still will keepA bower quiet for us, and a..

© John Keats

Song Of Myself, L

There is that in me—I do not know what it is—but I know it is in me.Wrench'd and sweaty—calm and cool then my body becomes,I sleep—I sleep long.I do..

© Walt Whitman

Song Of Myself, XLIX

And as to you Death, and you bitter hug of mortality, it is idle to try to alarm me.To his work without flinching the accoucheur comes,I see the..

© Walt Whitman

Song Of Myself, XLVIII

I have said that the soul is not more than the body,And I have said that the body is not more than the soul,And nothing, not God, is greater to one..

© Walt Whitman

Song Of Myself, XLVII

I am the teacher of athletes,He that by me spreads a wider breast than my own proves the width of my own,He most honors my style who learns under it..

© Walt Whitman

Song Of Myself, XLVI

I know I have the best of time and space, and was never measured and never will be measured.I tramp a perpetual journey, (come listen all!)My signs..

© Walt Whitman

Song Of Myself, XLV

O span of youth! ever-push'd elasticity!O manhood, balanced, florid and full.My lovers suffocate me,Crowding my lips, thick in the pores of my..

© Walt Whitman

Song Of Myself, XLIV

It is time to explain myself—let us stand up.What is known I strip away,I launch all men and women forward with me into the Unknown.The clock..

© Walt Whitman

Song Of Myself, XLIII

I do not despise you priests, all time, the world over,My faith is the greatest of faiths and the least of faiths,Enclosing worship ancient and..

© Walt Whitman

Song Of Myself, XLII

A call in the midst of the crowd,My own voice, orotund sweeping and final.Come my children,Come my boys and girls, my women, household and..

© Walt Whitman

Song Of Myself, XLI

I am he bringing help for the sick as they pant on their backs,And for strong upright men I bring yet more needed help.I heard what was said of the..

© Walt Whitman

Song Of Myself, XL

Flaunt of the sunshine I need not your bask—lie over!You light surfaces only, I force surfaces and depths also.Earth! you seem to look for something..

© Walt Whitman