Maxioms by John Keats
O, sorrow!
Why dost borrow
Heart's lightness from the merriment of May?
O, sorrow!
Why dost borrow
Heart's lightness from the merriment of May?
A proverb is no proverb to you until life has illustrated it.
A proverb is no proverb to you until life has illustrated it.
Through the dancing poppies stole
A breeze most softly lulling to my soul.
Through the dancing poppies stole
A breeze most softly lulling to my soul.
Love is my religion - I could die for it.
Love is my religion - I could die for it.
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, tranced thing,
But divine melodious truth.
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, tranced thing,
But divine melodious truth.
