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But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.

John Keats

There is nothing stable in the world; uproar’s your only music.
JOHN KEATS

Music Stability World Yourself
Parting they seemed to tread upon the air, Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart Only to meet again more close.
JOHN KEATS

Leaving Rose Togetherness
What is there in thee, Moon! That thou should’st move My heart so potently?
JOHN KEATS

Heart Love Moon Move Myself Yourself
I want a brighter word than bright.
JOHN KEATS

Bright Myself Word
Hear ye not the hum Of mighty workings?
JOHN KEATS

Greatness Work
Philosophy will clip an angel’s wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine – Unweave a rainbow.
JOHN KEATS

Angel Line Myself Mystery Philosophy Rule Wings
If poetry does not come as naturally as leaves to a tree, then it better not come at all.
JOHN KEATS

Leaving Natural Poetry Tree
Stop and consider! life is but a day
JOHN KEATS

Day Life Stop
A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
JOHN KEATS

Beautiful Forever Joy One Liner
She press’d his hand in slumber; so once more He could not help but kiss her and adore.
JOHN KEATS

Hands Herself Himself Kiss
Now a soft kiss – Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
JOHN KEATS

Bliss End Kiss Soft Vow
Life is but a day; A fragile dewdrop on its perilous way From a tree’s summit.
JOHN KEATS

Fragile Life Tree Way
Here are sweet peas, on tiptoe for a flight; With wings of gentle flush o’er delicate white, And taper fingers catching at all things, To bind them all about with tiny rings.
JOHN KEATS

Delicate Fingers Ring Tiny White Wings
You are always new. The last of your kisses was even the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest.
JOHN KEATS

Bright Grace Kiss Smile Sweet Yourself
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
JOHN KEATS

Day End Sweet
I am convinced more and more day by day that fine writing is next to fine doing, the top thing in the world.
JOHN KEATS

Day Myself World Writing

But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.

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But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.

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