183 ordspråk av John Keats
John Keats
 Real are the dreams of Gods, and smoothly pass / Their pleasures in a long immortal dream. |
| The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;/ And gathering swallows twitter in the skies. |
| 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? |
| Much have I travelled in the realms of gold, and many goodly states and kingdoms seen. |
| O for ten years, that I may overwhelm / Myself in poesy; so I may do the deed / That my own soul has to itself decreed. |
| Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought / As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! |
| Where's the cheek that doth not fade, / Too much gazed at? |
| But were there ever any / Writhed not at passed joy? |
| Bards of Passion and of Mirth, / Ye have left your souls on earth! Have ye souls in heaven too? |
| Upon the honeyed middle of the night. |
| Virgin-choir to make delicious moan / Upon the midnight hours. |
| Leaving great verse unto a little clan. |
| I think I shall be among the English poets after my death. |
| All breathing human passion far above, / That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloyed,/ A burning forehead and a parching tongue. |
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John Keats ordspråk
John Keats proverb
varav 2122549 på nordiska
Ordsprog (2101330 st) Søg
Kategorier (3944 st) Søg
Kilder (201411 st) Søg
Billeder (4592 st)
Født (10498 st)
Døde (3319 st)
Datoer (9520 st)
Lande (27300 st)
Idiom (4439 st)
Lengde
Topplistor (6 st)
Ordspråksmusik (20 st)
Statistik
John Keats ordspråk John Keats proverb