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The Complete Poems
by
John Keats
Here is the first reliable edition of Keats's complete poems designed expressly for general readers and students.
Upon its publication in 1978, Stillinger's The Poems of John Keats won exceptionally high praise: "The definitive Keats," proclaimed The New Republic--"An authoritative edition embodying the readings the poet himself most probably intended, prepar
...morePaperback, 752 pages
Published
August 25th 1977
by Penguin Books
(first published 1906)
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I'm going to come right out and say that I'm not usually a huge poetry fan. (Except in the epic sense where it's actually basically a novel, Byron, or Shakespeare.) But I make a huge exception for Keats. I adore Keats. All of Keats. You can't show me a poem of Keats that I wouldn't like. This stuff is so heartbreakingly beautiful sometimes, I can hardly stand it.
If anyone else has a poet to recommend that they can't live without, please do. I would really like to get more into poetr...more
If anyone else has a poet to recommend that they can't live without, please do. I would really like to get more into poetr...more
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Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the harvest's done.
I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever-dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
Fast withereth too.
I met a lady in the meads,
Ful...more
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the harvest's done.
I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever-dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
Fast withereth too.
I met a lady in the meads,
Ful...more
It seems I have found a poet I don't like at all. I know his poetry is loved by many, but I fear I will not be one of them. Granted I have read only the 21 poems found in this book and I really don't know how many more he wrote, although dying at the way too young age of 25 didn't give him enough time to be really prolific. Poetry is such a subjective thing that it's difficult to explain why one likes some and not others but I'll try to pinpoint some of the things that kept me at arm's length.
...more
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Every morning I would wake at 7am just to read this work of genius.
Keats was the Romantic poet who cared most about art and beauty. He didn't allow himself to get mixed up in religion and politics. But in quiet ways, he did comment on political, religious, aesthetic, and sexual beliefs, sometimes in ways that were less traditional than his poetic style. Above all, he was supremely conscious of beauty in the world, as well as the world's suffering. His 143page poem 'Endymion: A Poetic R...more
Keats was the Romantic poet who cared most about art and beauty. He didn't allow himself to get mixed up in religion and politics. But in quiet ways, he did comment on political, religious, aesthetic, and sexual beliefs, sometimes in ways that were less traditional than his poetic style. Above all, he was supremely conscious of beauty in the world, as well as the world's suffering. His 143page poem 'Endymion: A Poetic R...more
I have to admit that it was the movie Bright Star that got me to read the very slim oveare that is Keat's body of work. Yet, for such a small output, it had a huge following. Keats is very influentional through out the Victorian age. There are all kinds of influence on writers from Tennyson to Matthew Arnold and Browning. It seems to me that a major theme in Keats is work is potential unfufilled. It is a major theme in Ode to a Grecian Urn and Eve of Saint Agnes, where the love story is tol...more
I like Keats more than I like his poems, somehow.
when i lived in london, i lived three blocks from keats' old home. and, the entire time i was there i never went in for a tour. i just have never loved keats.
it's true, his writing is exquisite. the beauty of the poetry can't be denied. it is the substance i struggle with. keats started writing and was published for only three short years before his death at 26 years. from what i understand, he spent most of his life rather sheltered, and there is no record of any romantic interests,...more
it's true, his writing is exquisite. the beauty of the poetry can't be denied. it is the substance i struggle with. keats started writing and was published for only three short years before his death at 26 years. from what i understand, he spent most of his life rather sheltered, and there is no record of any romantic interests,...more
John Keats... lovely as his writings were, achieved fame only posthumously. Posthumous fame has to be one of the saddest things for an artist, especially for John Keats, whose situation never really got any happier. The poor lad died at the age of 29 after struggling with tuberculosis for years. As if this were not bad enough, critics of his time were very harsh on him... they disliked him because he did not derive from a wealthy family, and claimed that an farm boy like John Keats cannot possib...more
Patrick Gibson
rated it
·
review of another edition
·
review of another edition
Recommends it for:
all who can read
Recommended to Patrick by:
calliope
Shelves:
poetry
People always pair Keats and Milton. Milton shmilton. Keats is the man. Probably the finest English poet. I think he should shack up with John Donne. Wouldn’t you like to take a walk with those two by your side? I wonder if they ever wrote any dirty limericks?
Think Of It Not, Sweet One
John Keats
Think not of it, sweet one, so;—
Give it not a tear;
Sigh thou mayst, and bid it go
Any—anywhere.
Do not lool so sad, sweet one,—...more
Think Of It Not, Sweet One
John Keats
Think not of it, sweet one, so;—
Give it not a tear;
Sigh thou mayst, and bid it go
Any—anywhere.
Do not lool so sad, sweet one,—...more
Megan
rated it
·
review of another edition
·
review of another edition
Recommends it for:
Sad people in need of catharsis.
Recommended to Megan by:
A nightengale.
I bring this with me when I am forced to ride the Metro. Mostly I read "Ode to a Nightengale", "Ode on Melancholy" and "The Eve of St. Agnes" and teeter on the edge of crying and not-crying. I think he really understood depression. Hit up that last stanza of "Melancholy" and you'll have a little window into my brain. Mom assures me that "Endymion" will also make me cry. Maybe it will make you cry, too!
O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,
Let it not be among the jumbled heap
Of murky buildings: climb with me the steep,—
Nature's observatory—whence the dell,
In flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell,
May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep
'Mongst boughs pavilioned, where the deer's swift leap
Startles the wild bee from the foxglove bell.
But though I'll gladly trace these scenes with thee,
Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind,
Whose words are...more
Let it not be among the jumbled heap
Of murky buildings: climb with me the steep,—
Nature's observatory—whence the dell,
In flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell,
May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep
'Mongst boughs pavilioned, where the deer's swift leap
Startles the wild bee from the foxglove bell.
But though I'll gladly trace these scenes with thee,
Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind,
Whose words are...more
Of course, Keats is one the most recognized of English poets, but he will always haunt, linger, and sleep in the more silkenly sorrowful oubliettes of my heart. The melancholy, somber tone of his voice confined and steadied by formal elegance never fails to produce a pensive, maudlin gaze bent toward a consideration or disquisition of rest, of a time when one can breathe fully, with winnowing ease, as each suspiration unloads a weight or an onus regardless of how many times vapor slips pas...more
Anytime I pick up anything by Keats I get blow away! The edition I read also had selected letters written by him and they were nothing less of exquisite. His command of the english language and ability to twist it into beautiful flowersrainbowsstardust with a singsongy quality that keeps you entrammeled is so amazing.
Oh Keats you are my favorite poet.
Oh Keats you are my favorite poet.
I'm thankful to the movie art because of at least two resons: 1) ice cream tastes better and 2) I discovered John Keats in the film "Bright Star" (2009). I was deeply attouched by what I've heard and seen. Remember famous ABBA's "Thank you for the music"? Well, thank you for the poetry, dear John Keats)))
How is it, Shadows! that I knew ye
not?
How came ye muffled in so hush a mask?
Was it a silent deep-disguised plot
To steal away, and leave without a task
My idle days? Ripe was the drowsy
hour;
The blissful cloud of summer-indolence
Benumb'd my eyes; my pulse grew
less and less;
Pain had no sting, and pleasure's wreath
no flower:
O, why did ye not melt, and leave
sense
Unhaunted quite of a...more
not?
How came ye muffled in so hush a mask?
Was it a silent deep-disguised plot
To steal away, and leave without a task
My idle days? Ripe was the drowsy
hour;
The blissful cloud of summer-indolence
Benumb'd my eyes; my pulse grew
less and less;
Pain had no sting, and pleasure's wreath
no flower:
O, why did ye not melt, and leave
sense
Unhaunted quite of a...more
What a beautiful poet and beautiful man - he died too soon. I love the poetry, the letters, all of it. Found it on Google for free (pubilc domain!) in e-book form, sought it out after watching the movie Bright Star, about his love affair with Fanny Brawne. I recommend that as well.
actually, I love romantic poems.
Keats had his unique style, full of metaphores or loads of really nice phrases.
My favourite ones? To Autumn with the amazing "seasons of mists and mellow fruitfulness" phrase & La Belle Dame Sans Merci - an amazing one.
Keats had his unique style, full of metaphores or loads of really nice phrases.
My favourite ones? To Autumn with the amazing "seasons of mists and mellow fruitfulness" phrase & La Belle Dame Sans Merci - an amazing one.
Not long after finishing my first experience of Paradise Lost and the Complete Poems of John Keats, I found myself sprawled in an old chair with a bracing pint in a front window of the Spaniard's Inn on Hampstead Heath. This was the birth of my life as a poet...
John Keats is one of the finest poets who has ever lived, and he died at 25, and this praise comes from one who is not much of a fan of poetry in general. Not much else can be said other than everyone should sample his work (poems and letters)if they wish to be moved or inspired as no other could.
Keats is a great, great poet. I think he totally gets what poetry at its most basic level should be, which is to sound like music. Favorite one everrrr is "Ode to a Grecian Urn."
It has been awhile but I got through most of 1820 poems. The odes were wonderful, but I was much more engaged with the Hyperion poems more this time at the well.
If you are going to read poetry I adore Keats. All of Keats. You can't show me a poem of Keats that I wouldn't like. Please read and find the joy of Keats.
Another extraordinary film, Bright Star, inspired some good reading. Rent this film and fall into the grassy meadow...
In high school, John Keats was one of my literary heroes. Negative capability wow'ed my pubescent mind.
I am a fan of complete works of poetry, rather than anthologies. If I’ve just read one poem by Keats, I want to read another poem by Keats, not one by Longfellow or Auden.
Is that strange? Anthologies, especially when the poems are not complete (ugh!) feel like grey goo, all flavours mixed up.
Is that strange? Anthologies, especially when the poems are not complete (ugh!) feel like grey goo, all flavours mixed up.
In terms of sensual imagery, Keats is unsurpassed. Only Shakespeare may be a greater English poet
If you like poetry it is hard to do better than Keats.
Absolutely the most beautiful poetry I've ever read.
John Keats has become my favorite poet of all time.
My favorite "Romantics" poet. Please watch "Bright Star".
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| The Reader's Den | 1 | 8 | Apr 28, 2009 11:33am |
WHEN I have fears that I may cease to be. Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain, before high-pilèd books, in charact'ry, hold like rich garners the full-ripened grain. When I behold, upon the night's starred face, huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, and think that I may never live to trace, their shadows, with the magic hand of chance, and when I feel, fair creature of an hour that I shal...more
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“The air is all softness.”
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“And when thou art weary I'll find thee a bed,
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Of mosses and flowers to pillow thy head.”
