To Autumn (by: John Keats (1795 - 1821)) Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness! Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; continue reading
To Sleep (by: John Keats (1795 - 1821)) O Soft embalmer of the still midnight! Shutting with careful fingers and benign continue reading
When I Have Fears That I May Ceasa To Be (by: John Keats (1795 - 1821)) When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance... continue reading
