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Complete Poems and Selected Letters
'I think I shall be among the English Poets after my death,' John Keats soberly prophesied in 1818 as he started writing the blankverse epic Hyperion. Today he endures as the archetypal Romantic genius who explored the limits of the imagination and celebrated the pleasures of the senses but suffered a tragic early death. Edmund Wilson counted him as 'one of the half dozen...more
Paperback, 640 pages
Published
February 13th 2001
by Modern Library
(first published October 28th 1975)
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The guy had talent but reading his stuff is like being locked up in that Hansel and Gretel house made of confectionery. You get to feeling ill. In fact you need a bucket quite soon. There should be a Marathon Keats Reading Competition to see who can read the most pages of the Complete Poems without losing their lunch. I bet if Keats had been around in the 1970s he'd have been a Genesis fan - and then a Peter Gabriel fan! I can imagine him earnestly glomming onto "Selling England By The Pound" or...more
Rating this feels weird-- it's Keats, his entire poetic corpus, take it or leave it. I'm happy with the book, and while I have moods when I find some of Keats' work cheesy, overall I enjoy him and see no reason to mark this collection down. Highlights for me: Ode on a Grecian Urn (a very pivotal text for ekphrasis in Western Lit), To Autumn (I'm a Fall kind of a guy), On seeing the Elgin Marbles, On first looking into Chapman's Homer (I know some of these are the "big" poems that everyone mentio...more
He was a Poet, sure a lover too,
Who stood on Latmus’ top, what time there blew
Soft breezes from the myrtle vale below;
And brought in faintness solemn, sweet, and slow
A hymn from Dian’s temple; while upswelling,
The incense went to her own starry dwelling.
But though her face was clear as infant’s eyes,
Though she stood smiling o’er the sacrifice,
The Poet wept at her so piteous fate,
Wept that such beauty should be desolate:
So in fine wrath some golden sounds he won,
And gave meek Cynthia h...more
Who stood on Latmus’ top, what time there blew
Soft breezes from the myrtle vale below;
And brought in faintness solemn, sweet, and slow
A hymn from Dian’s temple; while upswelling,
The incense went to her own starry dwelling.
But though her face was clear as infant’s eyes,
Though she stood smiling o’er the sacrifice,
The Poet wept at her so piteous fate,
Wept that such beauty should be desolate:
So in fine wrath some golden sounds he won,
And gave meek Cynthia h...more
Mar 20, 2012
Lisa (Harmonybites)
rated it
5 of 5 stars
Recommends it for:
Everyone
Recommended to Lisa (Harmonybites) by:
Good Reading: 100 Signficant Books
The introduction speaks of Keat's "verbal sumptuousness" and that's apt--particularly if you read these out loud, they're a feast for the ears. That said, I didn't love everything. I was less than wild about Keats' two longest poems, particularly the longest, Endymion, which at over a hundred pages is the only one that could be described as "epic" and the only one that after reading part of it I skipped. I think part of what I don't much like about that poem is that it feels less personal than t...more
Keats.
John Keats.
I've been a big Shelley fan, and in a different way, Byron... but never tackled Keats before. As a non-English major, I'm having to google a lot of the references (21st Century Keats), but god is it gorgeous. Okay, I'll cop to it, I saw Bright Star yesterday--came right home and took this barely-cracked book off my shelf and stuck my nose in it for the rest of the night. My mind's jaw dropped open in admiration.
John Keats.
I've been a big Shelley fan, and in a different way, Byron... but never tackled Keats before. As a non-English major, I'm having to google a lot of the references (21st Century Keats), but god is it gorgeous. Okay, I'll cop to it, I saw Bright Star yesterday--came right home and took this barely-cracked book off my shelf and stuck my nose in it for the rest of the night. My mind's jaw dropped open in admiration.
I've read some poems and letters before,but most of them,i didn't know.So i was very excited to read all of his works and i have to say they're all heartbreakingly beautiful.I love the way he wrote about nature,art,beauty and love."One of England’s greatest poets?" He really was.My favorite poem is still Endymion.
I got this book for Valentine's Day and have taken a long time to read it, and to be honest, I didn't read the whole book--some of Keat's poems are really, really, long. But what I did read was so beautiful that I think John Keats is UP THERE with Shakespeare as an artist. His life, his letters, his ideas, his talent, and his artistry are so above the average, that you can't help but wonder that one young man was capable of writing such amazing stuff. When I graduated college, I thought I had gr...more
John Keats' poems sometimes felt realer than real. Sometimes this bothered me, like every little thing had to be pulsing with life, but a lot of times it's really nice.
His letters are okay. As I vaguely recall his ultraawareness of his death colored everything he wrote.
A good guy and I'm glad people still remember him.
His letters are okay. As I vaguely recall his ultraawareness of his death colored everything he wrote.
A good guy and I'm glad people still remember him.
Oct 30, 2008
Red
added it
Complete Poems and Selected Letters of John Keats (Modern Library Classics) by John Keats (2001)
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John Keats was one of the principal poets of the English Romantic movement. During his short life, his work received constant critical attacks from the periodicals of the day, but his posthumous influence on poets such as Alfred Tennyson has been immense. Elaborate word choice and sensual imagery characterize Keats's poetry, including a series of odes that were his masterpieces and which remain am...more
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“The excellence of every Art is its intensity.”
—
77 people liked it
“SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.”
—
11 people liked it
More quotes…
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.”

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Feb 12, 2010 07:45pm
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