Maxioms by John Keats
How beautiful, if sorrow had not made
Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self.
How beautiful, if sorrow had not made
Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self.
Hear ye not the hum
Of mighty workings?
Hear ye not the hum
Of mighty workings?
A proverb is no proverb to you until life has illustrated it.
A proverb is no proverb to you until life has illustrated it.
Oh for a life of sensations rather than thoughts.
Oh for a life of sensations rather than thoughts.
In a drear-nighted December,
Too happy, happy brook,
Thy bubblings ne'er remember
Apollo's summer read more
In a drear-nighted December,
Too happy, happy brook,
Thy bubblings ne'er remember
Apollo's summer look;
But with a sweet forgetting,
They stay their crystal fretting,
Never, never petting
About the frozen time.