* POETRY PROMPTS / JOHN KEATS .
* POETRY PROMPTS BY AUTHOR JOHN KEATS , FROM A VARIETY OF POEMS .
‘ Forget their tea — forget their appetite. ‘
‘ The fire is going out and no one rings. ‘
‘ There’s a large cauliflower in each candle. ‘
‘ Where may your tailor live? ‘
‘ Shed no tear! oh, shed no tear! ‘
‘ The flower will bloom another year. ‘
‘ Dry your eyes! oh, dry your eyes! ‘
‘ Overhead! look overhead! ‘
‘ Look up, look up! I flutter now. ‘
‘ These blossoms snow upon thy lady’s pall! ‘
‘ A kiss should bud upon the tree of love. ‘
‘ Pleasure never is at home. ‘
‘ Open wide the mind’s cage-door. ‘
‘ When the Night doth meet the Noon. ‘
‘ Where’s the cheek that doth not fade, too much gaz’d at? ‘
‘ Whose lip mature is ever new? ‘
‘ Where’s the eye, however blue, doth not weary? ‘
‘ Of secrecy, the violet: what strange powers. ‘
‘ Hast thou, as a mere shadow! ‘
‘ When in an Eye thou art alive with fate! ‘
‘ Where—where slept thine ire? ‘
‘ Or was I a worm—too low crawling for death? ‘
‘ Why was I not crush’d—such a pitiful germ? ‘
‘ O why didst thou pity, and beg for a worm? ‘
‘ Alone and palely loitering? ‘
‘ So haggard and so woe-begone? ‘
‘ I cry your mercy—pity—love!—ay, love! ‘
‘ Losing its gust, and my ambition blind! ‘
‘ O! let me have thee whole,—all—all—be mine! ‘
‘ Spirit here that reignest! Spirit here that mourneth! ‘
‘ O breathe a word or two of fire! ‘
‘ Ah! ken ye what I met the day! ‘
‘ Blue! ‘Tis the life of heaven,–the domain ‘
‘ Hush, hush! tread softly! hush, hush, my dear! ‘
‘ All the house is asleep, but we know very well. ‘
‘ Tho’ you’ve padded his night-cap — O sweet {name}! ‘
‘ For less than a nothing the jealous can hear. ’
‘ No leaf doth tremble, no ripple is there on the river. ‘
‘ But my {name}’s eyes, and her lips pulp’d with bloom. ‘
‘ Lift the latch! ah gently! ah tenderly — sweet! ‘
‘ We are dead if that latchet gives one little clink! ‘
‘ While I kiss to the melody, aching all through! ‘
‘ Away with old hock and madeira! ‘
‘ There’s a beverage brighter and clearer! ‘
‘ Hither, hither, love! Let us feed and feed! ‘
‘ Leaving great verse unto a little clan? ‘
‘ But were there ever any writhed not at passed joy? ‘
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