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").
Ode
Bards of Passion and of Mirth,Ye have left your souls on earth!Have ye souls in heaven too,Double lived in regions new?Yes, and those of heaven..
© John Keats
To Hope
WHEN by my solitary hearth I sit,And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom;When no fair dreams before my "mind's eye" flit,And the bare heath of..
© John Keats
Bards Of Passion And Of Mirth
BARDS of Passion and of Mirth,Ye have left your souls on earth!Have ye souls in heaven too,Doubled-lived in regions new?Yes, and those of heaven..
© John Keats
Happy Is England! I Could Be Content
Happy is England! I could be contentTo see no other verdure than its own;To feel no other breezes than are blownThrough its tall woods with high..
© John Keats
A Dream, After Reading Dante's Episode Of Paolo And Francesca
As Hermes once took to his feathers light,When lulled Argus, baffled, swooned and slept,So on a Delphic reed, my idle sprightSo played, so charmed..
© John Keats
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