John Keats (1795–1821). Poetical Works. 1884.
Index of First Lines
- A thing of beauty is a joy for ever
- As late I rambled in the happy fields
- Asleep! O sleep a little while, white pearl!
- Bards of Passion and of Mirth
- Bright star! would I were steadfast as thou art
- Deep in the shady sadness of a vale
- Ever let the Fancy roam
- Fair Isabel, poor simple Isabel!
- Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy
- Four Seasons fill the measure of the year
- Full many a dreary hour have I past
- Give me a golden pen, and let me lean
- Glory and loveliness have passed away
- Good Kosciusko, thy great name alone
- Great spirits now on earth are sojourning
- Had I a man’s fair form, then might my sighs
- Hadst thou liv’d in days of old
- Happy is England! I could be content
- Hast thou from the caves of Golconda, a gem
- Highmindedness, a jealousy for good
- How fever’d is the man, who cannot look
- How many bards gild the lapses of time!
- In a drear-nighted December
- I Stood tip-toe upon a little hill
- Just at the self-same beat of Time’s wide wings
- Keen, fitful gusts are whisp’ring here and there
- Lo! I must tell a tale of chivalry
- Love in a hut, with water and a crust
- Many the wonders I this day have seen
- Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold
- Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse!
- My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
- No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist
- No! those days are gone away
- Now Morning from her orient chamber came
- Nymph of the downward smile, and sidelong glance
- Oft have you seen a swan superbly frowning
- O goddess! hear these tuneless numbers, wrung
- O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell
- O sovereign power of love! O grief! O balm!
- O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms
- Poetry of earth is never dead, the
- St. Agnes’ Eve—Ah, bitter chill it was!
- Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
- Small, busy flames play through the fresh laid coals
- Souls of Poets dead and gone
- Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong
- There are who lord it o’er their fellow-men
- Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness
- Thus in alternate uproar and sad peace
- To one who has been long in city pent
- Upon a time, before the faery broods
- What is more gentle than a wind in summer?
- What though, for showing truth to flatter’d state
- What though while the wonders of nature exploring
- When by my solitary hearth I sit
- When I have fears that I may cease to be
- Woman! when I behold thee flippant, vain
- Young Calidore is paddling o’er the lake