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Rayxke: I’m convinced Tupac and John Keats were the same person.

yoesnadie: relatablepoetryandquotes: “Orbed is the moon and bright, And the stars they glisten, glisten, Seeming with bright eyes to listen – For what listen they?” - John Keats, A Prophecy: To George Keats in America

1earlymorning: When the World Stops, Traveling in John Keats’s ‘Realms of Gold’

NoravsNews: Anguish of poet John Keats vibrates through time as world lives in quarantine

orthokotan: A thing of beauty is a joy forever. - John Keats

jinyounglandss: My imagination is a monastery and I am its monk. John Keats

ParasPerci: "When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st, “Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.” -from Ode to a Grecian Urn by John keats

somequotesbot: "Forlorn! the very word is like a bellTo toil me back from thee to my sole self!" - John Keats

benjwhishaw: FILM: Bright Star (2009) -John Keats

sheenadin: If the poem looks oddly familiar, I fashioned it after John Keats' first stanza in his "Ode to a Grecian Urn". Gittew.

TheWordWell: Anguish of poet John Keats vibrates through time as world lives in quarantine

neurosocialself: UK: When the World Stops • Traveling in John Keats’s ‘Realms of Gold’ • In 1820 Keats spent 10 days quarantined in the Bay of Naples as typhus raged | an enforced stillness mirrored by our own | NYTimes | March 26 2020

KeatsFound: I stood tip-toe upon a little hill, The air was cooling, and so very still, That the sweet buds which with a modest pride Pull droopingly, in slanting curve aside, Their scantly leaved, and finely tapering stems, John Keats

etabecila: There's a 'John Keats poems as Korean instant noodles I've eaten during the pandemic' thread brewing

KamalZeyada11: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep? — John Keats, Ode to a Nightingale .

Pakistn_Kashmir: "Beauty is truth, truth beauty,-that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know." John Keats

literatequotes: “Ever let the Fancy roam, / Pleasure never is at home” - John Keats, Fancy

jjcousins: Check out my CD reading Keats great poems

SarahMalabar: « Don’t lose your friendship over ego. As « John Keats said « it’s okay to lose your ego for someone you love, but don’t lose someone you love because of your ego. »

yaanu_: “Ever let the Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home” - John Keats, Fancy

LordByron_1824: Remember at April 05, 2020 at 04:15PM "A thing of beauty is a joy forever", John Keats

literatequotes: “With fervour seize their adamantine lyres, / Whose cords are solid rays, and twinkle radiant fires.” - John Keats, Ode to Apollo

threexco: The Mysterious Morbid Fixation of Keats. "He opens with a strange tease to readers that this work is either the vision of a capable poet or the rantings of a madman. He goes on to promise that the truth will be revealed only after he has passed away."

judithellis: When the World Stops, Traveling in John Keats’s ‘Realms of Gold’

TerriTh5576208: When the World Stops, Traveling in John Keats’s ‘Realms of Gold’

covid19newsv: When the World Stops, Traveling in John Keats’s ‘Realms of Gold’

cristinausami: "God of the golden bow, And of the golden lyre, And of the golden hair, And of the golden fire, Charioteer Of the patient year, Where—where slept thine ire, When like a blank idiot I put on thy wreath... " John Keats.

edwardmayes: When the World Stops, Traveling in John Keats’s ‘Realms of Gold’

CONSCIOUSBEATS8: “Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter: therefore, ye soft pipes, play on.”―John Keats

literatequotes: “And lost in pleasure at her feet he sinks, / Touching with dazzled lips her starlight hand.” - John Keats, Endymion

Poem of the day

Dust
 by Sara Teasdale

When I went to look at what had long been hidden,
A jewel laid long ago in a secret place,
I trembled, for I thought to see its dark deep fire -
But only a pinch of dust blew up in my face.

I almost gave my life long ago for a thing
That has gone to dust now, stinging my eyes -
It is strange how often a heart must be broken
...

Read complete poem

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