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200th Anniversary

PostPosted: Tue Feb 23, 2021 1:28 pm
by CasaMagni
Don't know how long this forum will continue but John Keats will continue as long as English literature.

What are his greatest lines? There will be no agreement on that.

I plump for -

She dwells with Beauty—Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight
Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;
His soul shalt taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung.

"he is only before us on the road, as he is in everything else"