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Sonnets of John Keats - John Keats · Winnie The Pooh

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  Speaker 1: The Sonnets of John Keats readfolibrivox dot org by Bruskachuk
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  Speaker 1: dedication of the volume of eighteen seventeen to Lee Hunt.
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  Speaker 1: Glory and loveliness have passed away. For if we wander
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  Speaker 1: out in early morn, no wreathed incense do we see
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  Speaker 1: a born into the east to meet the smiling day.
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  Speaker 1: No crowd of nymphs, soft voiced and young and gay
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  Speaker 1: in woven baskets, bringing years of corn, roses and pinks
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  Speaker 1: and violets to adorn the shrine of Flora in her
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  Speaker 1: early may. But there are left delights as high as these.
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  Speaker 1: And I shall ever bless my destiny that, in a
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  Speaker 1: time when under pleasant trees, pan is no longer sought,
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  Speaker 1: I feel a free, a leafy luxury, seeing I could
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  Speaker 1: please with these poor offerings a man like thee end
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  Speaker 1: of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Oh Chatterton,
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  Speaker 1: How very sad thy fate? By John Keats read for
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  Speaker 1: LibriVox dot org. Oh Chatterton, how very sad thy fate,
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  Speaker 1: dear child of sorrow, son of misery. How soon the
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  Speaker 1: film of death obscured that eye, whence genius mildly flashed
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  Speaker 1: and high debate, how soon that voice majestic and the
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  Speaker 1: late melted in dying numbers. Oh, how nigh was knight
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  Speaker 1: to that fair morning. Thou didst die a half blown
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  Speaker 1: flowret which cold blests a mate. But this is past.
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  Speaker 1: Thou art among the stars of highest heaven, to thy
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  Speaker 1: rolling spheres, Thou sweetest singst not thy hymning mars, above
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  Speaker 1: the ingreat world and human fears on earth. The good
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  Speaker 1: man base detraction bars from thy fair name and waters
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  Speaker 1: it with tears. End of poem. This recording is in
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  Speaker 1: the public domain Byron. How Sweetly Sad Thy Melody by
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  Speaker 1: John Keats read forlibrivox dot Org Byron, How Sweetly sad
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  Speaker 1: Thy Melody A tuning still the soul to tenderness, as
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  Speaker 1: if soft pity with unusual stress had touched her plaintive lute,
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  Speaker 1: and thou being by hadst caught the tones, nor suffered
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  Speaker 1: them to die. Or shadowing sorrow doth not make thee
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  Speaker 1: less delightful. Thou thy griefs dost dress with a bright
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  Speaker 1: halo shining beamily, as when a cloud the golden moon
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  Speaker 1: doth veil its sides are tinged with a resplendent glow.
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  Speaker 1: Through the dark robe oft amber rays prevail, and like
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  Speaker 1: fair veins, insable marble flow still warble, dying swan still
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  Speaker 1: tell the tale, the enchanting tale, the tale of pleasing woe.
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  Speaker 1: End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Spencer,
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  Speaker 1: A jealous honor of Thine by John Keats read for
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  Speaker 1: LibriVox dot org. Spenser, a jealous honorer of thine, A
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  Speaker 1: forester deep in thy midmost trees, did last Eve ask
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  Speaker 1: my promise to refine some English that might strive thine?
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  Speaker 1: Ear to please? But elfin poet, tis impossible for an
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  Speaker 1: inhabitant of wintry earth to rise like Phoebus, with a
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  Speaker 1: golden quill, fire winged, and make a morning in his mirth.
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  Speaker 1: It is impossible to escape from toil o the sudden
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  Speaker 1: and receive thy spiriting. The flower must drink the nature
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  Speaker 1: of the soil before it can put forth its blossoming.
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  Speaker 1: Be with me in the summer days, and I will
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  Speaker 1: for Thine honor and his pleasure try. End of poem.
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  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. To my Brother
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  Speaker 1: George by John Keats read forlibrivox dot org. Many the
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  Speaker 1: wonders I this day have seen the sun when first
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  Speaker 1: he kissed away the tears that filled the eyes of morn.
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  Speaker 1: The laureld peers, who from the feathery gold of evening
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  Speaker 1: lean the ocean, with its fastness, its blue green, its ships,
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  Speaker 1: its rocks, its caves, its hopes, its fears, its voice mysterious,
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  Speaker 1: which whoso hears must think on what will be and
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  Speaker 1: what has been? E Now, dear George, while this for
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  Speaker 1: you I write, since is from her silken curtains, peeping
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  Speaker 1: so scantly that it seems her bridal night, and she
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  Speaker 1: her half discovered revels keeping. But what without the social
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  Speaker 1: thought of thee would be the wonders of the sky
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  Speaker 1: and sea? End of poem. This recording is in the
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  Speaker 1: public domain. As From the Darkening Gloom A Silver Dove
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  Speaker 1: by John Keats Readfourlibrivox dot org. As from the Darkening Gloom,
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  Speaker 1: a silver Dove upsars and darts into the eastern light,
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  Speaker 1: on pinions that not moves, but pure delight. So fled
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  Speaker 1: thy soul into the realms above, regions of peace and
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  Speaker 1: everlasting love, where happy spirits crowned with circlets, bright of
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  Speaker 1: starry beam, and gloriously be dight taste the high joy.
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  Speaker 1: None but the blessed can prove there thou or joinest
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  Speaker 1: the immortal choir in melodies that even heaven fair fill
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  Speaker 1: with superior bliss, or at desire of the omnipotent Father,
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  Speaker 1: cleavest the air on holy message scent What pleasures higher?
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  Speaker 1: Wherefore does any grief er joy impair? Eighteen sixteen end
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  Speaker 1: of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Written
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  Speaker 1: on a summer evening by John Keats, read for libriv
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  Speaker 1: dot org. The church bells toll a melancholy round, calling
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  Speaker 1: the people to some other prayers, some other gloominess, more dreadful,
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  Speaker 1: cares more, hearkening to the sermon's horrid sound. Surely the
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  Speaker 1: mind of man is closely bound in some blind spell,
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  Speaker 1: seeing that each one tears himself from farside joys and
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  Speaker 1: lidian hares, and converse high of those with glory crowned.
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  Speaker 1: Still still they toll, and I should feel a damp,
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  Speaker 1: a chill as from a tomb. Did I not know
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  Speaker 1: that they are dying like an outburnt lamp? That tis
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  Speaker 1: their sighing wailing. Ere they go into oblivion, that fresh
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  Speaker 1: flowers will grow, and many glories of immortal stamp eighteen sixteen.
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  Speaker 1: End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
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  Speaker 1: To G. A. W. By John Keats read for LibriVox
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  Speaker 1: dot org nymph of the downward smile and sidelong glance.
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  Speaker 1: In what diviner moments of the day art thou most lovely?
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  Speaker 1: When gone far astray into the labyrinths of sweet utterance,
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  Speaker 1: or when serenely wondering in a trance of sober thought,
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  Speaker 1: or when starting away with careless robe to meet the
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  Speaker 1: morning ray. Thou spareest the flowers in thy mazy dance.
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  Speaker 1: Haply tis when thy ruby lips part sweetly, and so
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  Speaker 1: remain because thou listenest. But thou to please wert nurtured
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  Speaker 1: so completely that I can never tell what mood is best.
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  Speaker 1: I shall as soon pronounce which grace more neatly trips
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  Speaker 1: it before Apollo than the rest end of poem. This
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  Speaker 1: recording is in the public domain. Two by John Keats
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  Speaker 1: readfourlibrivox dot org. Had I a man's fair form, then
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  Speaker 1: might my size be echoed swiftly through that ivory shell.
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  Speaker 1: Thine ear and find thy gentle heart so well would
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  Speaker 1: passion arm me for the enterprise? But ah, I am
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  Speaker 1: no knight whose foemen dies, no cuirass glistens on my bosom. Swell.
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  Speaker 1: I am no happy shepherd of the dell, whose lips
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  Speaker 1: have trod with the maiden's eyes. Yet must I dote
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  Speaker 1: upon thee? Call thee sweet sweeter by far than high blass,
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  Speaker 1: honeyed roses, when steeped in dew rich to intoxication. Ah,
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  Speaker 1: I will taste that dew, for meat tis meat. And
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  Speaker 1: when the moon her pallid face discloses, I'll gather some
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  Speaker 1: by spells and incantation. End of poem. This recording is
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  Speaker 1: in the public domain to a friend who sent me
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  Speaker 1: some roses by John Keats Redfolibrivox dot org As late,
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  Speaker 1: I rambled in the happy fields, what time the skylark
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  Speaker 1: shakes the tremulous dew from his lush clover covert, When
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  Speaker 1: a new adventurous knights take up their dinted shields, I
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  Speaker 1: saw the sweetest flower. Wild nature yields a fresh blown
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  Speaker 1: musk rose. Twas the first that threw its sweets upon
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  Speaker 1: the summer. Graceful it grew, as is the wand that
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  Speaker 1: Queen Titania wields, And as I feasted on its fragrancy.
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  Speaker 1: I thought the garden rose it far excelled. But when
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  Speaker 1: oh wells thy roses came to me, my sense, with
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  Speaker 1: their deliciousness was spelled soft voices had they that with
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  Speaker 1: tender plea whispered of peace and truth and friendliness unquelled.
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  Speaker 1: End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
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  Speaker 1: O Solitude, if I must with thee dwell by John
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  Speaker 1: Keats read for LibriVox dot org O solitude. If I
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  Speaker 1: must with thee dwell, let it not be among the
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  Speaker 1: jumbled heap of murky buildings. Climb with me the steep
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  Speaker 1: nature's observatory. Whence the dell in flow'ry slopes, its rivers
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  Speaker 1: crystal swell may seem a span. Let me thy vigils
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  Speaker 1: keep mongst bough's pavilioned, where the deer's swift leap startles
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  Speaker 1: the wild bee from the foxglove bell. But though I'll
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  Speaker 1: gladly trace thee scenes with thee, yet the sweet converse
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  Speaker 1: of an innocent mind whose words are images of thoughts
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  Speaker 1: refin'd is my soul's pleasure. And it sure must be
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  Speaker 1: almost the highest bliss of humankind. When to thy haunts,
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  Speaker 1: two kindred spirits flee, end a poem. This recording is
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  Speaker 1: in the public domain. Oh how I love on a
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  Speaker 1: fair summer's Eve by John Keats Readfourlibrivox dot org. Oh
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  Speaker 1: how I love on a fair summer's eve, When streams
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  Speaker 1: of light pour down the golden west, and on the
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  Speaker 1: balmy zephyr's tranquil rest the silver clouds far far away,
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  Speaker 1: To leave all meaner thoughts, and take a sweet reprieve
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  Speaker 1: from little cares, to find with easy quest, a fragrant wild,
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  Speaker 1: with nature's beauty dressed, And there into delight my soul deceive. There,
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  Speaker 1: warm my breast with patriotic lore, musing on Milton's fate,
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  Speaker 1: on Sydney's beer, till their stern forms before my mind arise,
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  Speaker 1: perhaps on wing of poesy upsar full, often dropping a
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  Speaker 1: delicious tear, when some melodious sorrow spells mine eyes eighteen sixteen,
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  Speaker 1: end a poem. This recording is in the public domain.
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  Speaker 1: To a young lady who sent me a laurel crown
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  Speaker 1: by John Keats read Forlibrivox dot org. Fresh morning gusts
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  Speaker 1: have blown away all fear from my glad bosom. Now
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  Speaker 1: from gloominess I mount forever. Not an atom less than
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  Speaker 1: the proud laurel shall content my beer? No by the
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  Speaker 1: eternal stars? Or why sit here in the Sun's eye
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  Speaker 1: and gainst my temple's press Apollo's very leaves woven to
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  Speaker 1: bless by thy white fingers and thy spirit clear? Lo,
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  Speaker 1: Who dare say do this? Who dares call down my
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  Speaker 1: will from its high purpose? Who say stand or go
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  Speaker 1: this mighty moment? I would frown on abject Caesar's not
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  Speaker 1: the stoutest band of mailed heroes should tear off my crown.
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  Speaker 1: Yet would I kneel and kiss thy gentle hand? End
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  Speaker 1: a poem. This recording is in the public domain, written
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  Speaker 1: on the day that mister LEEH. Hunt left prison by
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  Speaker 1: John Keats, read for LibriVox dot org. What though for
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  Speaker 1: showing truth to flattered state kind? Hunt was shut in prison?
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  Speaker 1: Yet has he, in his immortal spirit, been as free
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  Speaker 1: as the sky searching lark and as elate minion of grandeur?
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  Speaker 1: Think you he did? Wait? Think you he not? But
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  Speaker 1: prison walls did see till so unwilling thou unturn'st the
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  Speaker 1: key ah No, far happier nobler was his fate in
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  Speaker 1: Spencer's halls. He strayed, and Bower's fair culling enchanted flowers.
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  Speaker 1: And he flew with daring Milton through the fields of
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  Speaker 1: air to regions of his own. His genius true took
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  Speaker 1: happy flights. Who shall his fame impair when thou art
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  Speaker 1: dead and all thy wretched crew. End a poem. This
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  Speaker 1: recording is in the public domain. To Cossiosco by John
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  Speaker 1: Keats read for LibriVox dot org. Good Cossiosco, Thy great
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  Speaker 1: name alone is a full harvest whence to reap high feeling.
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  Speaker 1: It comes upon us like the glorious pealing of the
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  Speaker 1: white spheres, an everlasting tone. And now it tells me
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  Speaker 1: that in worlds unknown, the names of heroes burst from
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  Speaker 1: clouds concealing, are changed to harmonies, forever stealing through cloudless
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  Speaker 1: blue and round each silver throne. It tells me too,
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  Speaker 1: that on a happy day, when some good spirit walks
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  Speaker 1: upon the earth, thy name with Alfred's and the great
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  Speaker 1: of Yr gently commingling, gives tremendous birth to allowed him
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  Speaker 1: that sounds far far away, to where the great God
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  Speaker 1: lives forever more. End of poem. This recording is in
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  Speaker 1: the public domain. How many bards gild the Lapses of
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  Speaker 1: Time by John Keats, Readfourlibrivox dot org. How many bards
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  Speaker 1: gild the lapses of time? A few of them have
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  Speaker 1: ever been the food of my delighted fancy. I could
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  Speaker 1: brood over their beauties, earthly or sublime, And often when
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  Speaker 1: I sit me down to rhyme, these wail in throngs
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  Speaker 1: before my mind, intrude, but no confusion, no disturbance. Rude
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  Speaker 1: do they? Occasion tis a pleasing chime. So the unnumbered
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  Speaker 1: sounds that evening store, the songs of birds, the whispering
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  Speaker 1: of the leaves, the voice of waters, the great bell
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  Speaker 1: that heaves with solemn sound, and thousand others more. That
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  Speaker 1: distance of recognaissance bereaves makes pleasing music and not wild uproar.
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  Speaker 1: End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
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  Speaker 1: On first Looking into Chapman's Homer by John Keats read
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  Speaker 1: forlibrivox dot org. Much have I traveled in the realms
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  Speaker 1: of gold, and many goodly states and kingdoms seen round
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  Speaker 1: many western islands. Have I been which bards in fealty
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  Speaker 1: to Apollo hold oft of one wide expanse? Had I
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  Speaker 1: been told that deep browed Homer ruled as his demean
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  Speaker 1: Yet did I never breathe its pure serene till I
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  Speaker 1: heard Chapman speak out loud and bold. Then felt I
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  Speaker 1: like some watcher of the skies when a new planet
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  Speaker 1: swims into his ken, Or like stout Cortes, when with
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  Speaker 1: eagle eyes he stared at the Pacific, and all his
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  Speaker 1: men looked at each other with a wild surmise, silent
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  Speaker 1: upon a peak in Darien End a poem. This recording
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  Speaker 1: is in the public domain. Keen fitful gusts are whispering
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  Speaker 1: here and there by John keats redfourlibrivox dot org. Keen
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  Speaker 1: fitful gusts are whispering here and there among the bushes,
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  Speaker 1: half leafless and dry. The stars look very cold about
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  Speaker 1: the sky, and I have many miles on foot too.
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  Speaker 1: Fair Yet feel I little of the cool, bleak hair,
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  Speaker 1: or of the dead leaves rustling drearily, or of those
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  Speaker 1: silver lamps that burn on high, or of the distance
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  Speaker 1: from home's pleasant lair. For I am brimful of the
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  Speaker 1: friendliness that in a little cottage I have found, of
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  Speaker 1: fair haired Milton's eloquent distress, and all his love for
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  Speaker 1: gentle Lycid drowned of lovely Laura in her light green
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  Speaker 1: dress and faithful patriarch, gloriously crowned. End of poem. This
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  Speaker 1: recording is in the public domain. On leaving some friends
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  Speaker 1: at an early hour by John Keats read forlibrivox dot org.
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  Speaker 1: Give me a golden pen and let me lean on
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  Speaker 1: heaped up flowers in regions clear and far. Bring me
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  Speaker 1: a tablet whiter than a star, or hand of himming angel,
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  Speaker 1: when tis seen the silver strings of heavenly harp between,
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  Speaker 1: and let their glide by many a pearly car, pink
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  Speaker 1: robes and wavy hair, and diamond jar and half discovered
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  Speaker 1: wings and glances keen the while let music wander round
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  Speaker 1: my ears, and as it reaches each delicious ending, let
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  Speaker 1: me write down a line of glorious tone and fall
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  Speaker 1: of many wonders of the spheres. For what a height
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  Speaker 1: my spirit is contending? Tis not content so soon to
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  Speaker 1: be alone? End of poem. This recording is in the
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  Speaker 1: public domain. Happy is England, I could be content by
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  Speaker 1: John Keats read forlibrivox dot org. Happy is England. I
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  Speaker 1: could be content to see no other verdure than its own,
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  Speaker 1: to feel no other breezes than are blown through its
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  Speaker 1: tall woods with high romances blent, Yet do I sometimes
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  Speaker 1: feel a languishment for skies Italian and an inward grown
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  Speaker 1: to sit upon an alp as on a throne, and
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  Speaker 1: half forget what world or worldling meant? Happy? Is England sweet,
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  Speaker 1: her heartless daughters, enough their simple loveliness for me, enough
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  Speaker 1: their whitest arms in silence clinging. Yet do I often
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  Speaker 1: warmly burn to see beauties of deeper glance, and hear
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  Speaker 1: their singing, and float with them about the summer waters.
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  Speaker 1: End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
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  Speaker 1: To My Brothers by John Keats, read for LibriVox dot org.
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  Speaker 1: Small busy flames play through the fresh laid coals, and
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  Speaker 1: their faint cracklings o'er our silence, creep like whispers of
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  Speaker 1: the household gods that keep a gentle empire, or fraternal souls.
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  Speaker 1: And while for rhymes I search around the poles, your
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  Speaker 1: eyes are fixed, as in poetic sleep, upon the lore
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  Speaker 1: so voluble and deep that ay at fall of night
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  Speaker 1: our care condoles. This is your birthday, Tom, and I
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  Speaker 1: rejoice that thus it passes smoothly, quietly. Many such e
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  Speaker 1: of gently whispering noise may we together pass and calmly
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  Speaker 1: try what are this world's true joys? Ere the great voice,
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  Speaker 1: from its fair face shall bid our spirits fly. November eighteenth,
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  Speaker 1: eighteen sixteen. End of poem. This recording is in the
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  Speaker 1: public domain. On the Grasshopper and Cricket by John Keats,
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  Speaker 1: read for LibriVox dot Org. The poetry of Earth is
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  Speaker 1: never dead. When all the birds are faint with the
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  Speaker 1: hot sun and hide in cooling trees, a voice will
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  Speaker 1: run from hedge to hedge about the new mown mead,
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  Speaker 1: that is the grasshoppers. He takes the lead in summer luxury.
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  Speaker 1: He has never done with his delights, for when tired
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  Speaker 1: out with fun, he rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
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  Speaker 1: The poetry of Earth is ceasing, never on a lone
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  Speaker 1: winter evening, when the frost has wrought a silence from
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  Speaker 1: the stove their shrills, the cricket song in warmth, increasing ever,
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  Speaker 1: and seems to wan in drowsiness, half lost. The grasshoppers
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  Speaker 1: among some grassy hills, December thirtieth, eighteen sixteen. End of poem.
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  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. Addressed to Hayden
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  Speaker 1: by John Keats, read for LibriVox dot org. Hi, a
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  Speaker 1: jealousy for good, a loving kindness for the great man's fame,
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  Speaker 1: dwells here and there with people of no name, in
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  Speaker 1: noisome alley, and in pathless wood, and where we think
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  Speaker 1: the truth least understood oft may be found a singleness
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  Speaker 1: of aim that aught to frighten into hooded shame, a
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  Speaker 1: money mongering, pitiable brood. How glorious this affection for the
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  Speaker 1: cause of steadfast genius toiling gallantly? What when a stout,
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  Speaker 1: unbending champion owes envy and malice to their native stye,
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  Speaker 1: unnumbered souls breathe out a still applause, proud to behold
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  Speaker 1: him in his country's high end of poem. This recording
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  Speaker 1: is in the public domain, addressed to the same by
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  Speaker 1: John Keats read for LibriVox dot org. Great spirits now
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  Speaker 1: on earth are sojourning. He of the Cloud, the cataract,
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  Speaker 1: the lake, who on hell Vellen's summit, wide awake, catches
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  Speaker 1: his freshness from Archangel's wing. He of the Rose, the violet,
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  Speaker 1: the spring, the social smile, the chain, for freedom's sake,
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  Speaker 1: and lo whose steadfastness would never take a meaner sound
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  Speaker 1: than Raphael's whispering and other spirits there are standing apart
• 30:46
  Speaker 1: upon the forehead of the age to come. These these
• 30:51
  Speaker 1: will give the world another heart and other pulses. Hear
• 30:56
  Speaker 1: ye not the hum of mighty workings. Listen awhile ye nations,
• 31:03
  Speaker 1: and be dumb. End of poem. This recording is in
• 31:09
  Speaker 1: the public domain. After dark vapors have oppressed our planes
• 31:20
  Speaker 1: by John Keats, read for LibriVox dot org. After dark
• 31:27
  Speaker 1: vapors have oppressed our planes for a long dreary season,
• 31:32
  Speaker 1: comes a day born of the gentle South, and clears
• 31:36
  Speaker 1: away from the sick heavens all unseemly stains. The anxious month,
• 31:42
  Speaker 1: relieved from its pains, takes as a long lost right,
• 31:46
  Speaker 1: the feel of May. The eyelids, with the passing coolness,
• 31:51
  Speaker 1: play like rose leaves with the drip of summer rains,
• 31:57
  Speaker 1: and calmest thoughts come round us as of leaves, budding
• 32:02
  Speaker 1: fruit ripening in stillness, autumn suns smiling at eve upon
• 32:08
  Speaker 1: the quiet sheaves, sweet sappho's cheek, a sleeping infant's breath,
• 32:16
  Speaker 1: the gradual sand that through an hour glass runs a
• 32:21
  Speaker 1: woodland rivulet. A poet's death. January eighteen seventeen end, a poem.
• 32:32
  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. On seeing the
• 32:41
  Speaker 1: Elgin Marbles for the first time by John Keats redfourlibrivox
• 32:48
  Speaker 1: dot org. My spirit is too weak. Mortality weighs heavily
• 32:54
  Speaker 1: on me, like unwilling sleep, and each imagined pinnacle and
• 32:59
  Speaker 1: steep of god like hardship tells me I must die
• 33:03
  Speaker 1: like a sick eagle looking at the sky. Yet tis
• 33:07
  Speaker 1: a gentle luxury to weep that I have not the
• 33:11
  Speaker 1: cloudy winds to keep fresh for the opening of the
• 33:14
  Speaker 1: morning's eye. Such dim conceived glories of the brain bring
• 33:19
  Speaker 1: round the heart and indescribable feud. So do these wonders,
• 33:24
  Speaker 1: a most dizzy pain that mingles greci and grandeur with
• 33:29
  Speaker 1: the rude wasting of old time, with a billowy mane,
• 33:33
  Speaker 1: a sun a shadow of a magnitude eighteen seventeen end,
• 33:42
  Speaker 1: a poem. This recording is in the public domain. To
• 33:51
  Speaker 1: Hayden with the Foregoing by John Keats readfourlibrivox dot org Eden,
• 34:01
  Speaker 1: forgive me that I cannot speak definitively of these mighty things.
• 34:05
  Speaker 1: Forgive me that I have not Ego's wings, that what
• 34:09
  Speaker 1: I want I know not where to seek, And think
• 34:13
  Speaker 1: that I would not be over meek in rolling out
• 34:16
  Speaker 1: upfollowed thunderings, even to the steep of Heliconian springs, where
• 34:22
  Speaker 1: I have ample strength for such a freak. Think too,
• 34:26
  Speaker 1: that all these numbers should be thine. Whose else in
• 34:31
  Speaker 1: this who touch thy Vesture's hem? For when men stared
• 34:36
  Speaker 1: at what was most divine with brainless idiotism and or
• 34:40
  Speaker 1: wise phlem thou hast beheld the full Hesperian shine of
• 34:46
  Speaker 1: their star in the yeast, and gone to worship them.
• 34:53
  Speaker 1: End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 35:02
  Speaker 1: When I have fears that I may cease to be
• 35:06
  Speaker 1: by John Keats readfolibrivox dot org. When I have fears
• 35:14
  Speaker 1: that I may cease to be before my pen has
• 35:17
  Speaker 1: glean'd my teeming brain, before high piled books in charactry
• 35:22
  Speaker 1: hold like full garners, the full ripen'd grain. When I
• 35:26
  Speaker 1: behold upon the night's start face cute, cloudy symbols of
• 35:31
  Speaker 1: a high romance, and feel that I may never live
• 35:34
  Speaker 1: to trace their shadows with the magic hand of chance.
• 35:39
  Speaker 1: And when I feel fair creature of an hour, that
• 35:42
  Speaker 1: I shall never look upon thee more, never have relish
• 35:46
  Speaker 1: in the fairy power of unreflecting love. Then on the
• 35:50
  Speaker 1: shore of the wide world, I stand alone and think
• 35:55
  Speaker 1: till love and fame to nothingness do sink eighteen seventeen,
• 36:03
  Speaker 1: end of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 36:12
  Speaker 1: On Lehun's poem The Story of Remedy by John Keats
• 36:18
  Speaker 1: read for LibriVox dot org. Who loves to peer up
• 36:23
  Speaker 1: at the morning sun with half shut eyes and comfortable cheek,
• 36:28
  Speaker 1: Let him, with this sweet tail full often seek for
• 36:32
  Speaker 1: meadows where the little rivers run. Who loves to linger
• 36:37
  Speaker 1: with that brightest wan of heaven hesperus, Let him lowly
• 36:42
  Speaker 1: speak these numbers to the night and starlight meek or moon,
• 36:47
  Speaker 1: if that her hunting be begun. He who knows these
• 36:52
  Speaker 1: delights and two is prone to moralize upon a smile
• 36:57
  Speaker 1: or tear, will find at once a region of his
• 37:00
  Speaker 1: own a bower for his spirit, and will steer two
• 37:04
  Speaker 1: alleys where the fir tree drops its cone, where robins
• 37:08
  Speaker 1: hop and fallen leaves our seer eighteen seventeen, end a poem.
• 37:17
  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. Written on a
• 37:26
  Speaker 1: blank space at the end of Chaucer's Tail of the
• 37:29
  Speaker 1: Flower and the Leaf by John Keats, Redfourlibrivox dot org.
• 37:37
  Speaker 1: This pleasant tale is like a little copse the honeyed lion,
• 37:41
  Speaker 1: so freshly interlace to keep the reader in so sweet
• 37:45
  Speaker 1: a place, so that he here and there full hearted stops,
• 37:50
  Speaker 1: and oftentimes he feels the dewey drops come cool and
• 37:54
  Speaker 1: suddenly against his face, and by the wandering melody may
• 37:59
  Speaker 1: trace which way the tender legged linnet hops. Oh, what
• 38:05
  Speaker 1: a power has white simplicity? What mighty power has this
• 38:11
  Speaker 1: gentle story? Aye, that do ever feel a thirst for glory,
• 38:17
  Speaker 1: could at this moment be content to lie meekly upon
• 38:21
  Speaker 1: the grass as those whose sobbings were heard of none
• 38:26
  Speaker 1: beside the mournful Robins eighteen seventeen, end a poem. This
• 38:35
  Speaker 1: recording is in the public domain. On a picture of
• 38:44
  Speaker 1: Leander by John Keats Readfourlibrivox dot org. Come hither, all
• 38:53
  Speaker 1: sweet maidens, soberly down looking hay, and with a chastened light,
• 38:59
  Speaker 1: haid in the fringes of your eyelids, white and meekly,
• 39:03
  Speaker 1: let your fair hands joined be, as if so gentle
• 39:07
  Speaker 1: that ye could not see untouched a victim of your beauty,
• 39:11
  Speaker 1: bright sinking away to his young spirit's night, sinking bewildered
• 39:18
  Speaker 1: mid the dreary sea, tis young leander toiling to his death,
• 39:24
  Speaker 1: nigh swooning. He doth purse his weary lips for hero's cheek,
• 39:29
  Speaker 1: and smiles against her. Smile, Oh horrid dream. See how
• 39:35
  Speaker 1: his body dips dead, heavy arms and shoulders gleam awhile
• 39:42
  Speaker 1: he's gone up bubbles all his amorous breath. End a poem.
• 39:50
  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. On the Sea
• 40:00
  Speaker 1: by John Keats, read for LibriVox dot org. It keeps
• 40:07
  Speaker 1: eternal whisperings around desolate shores, and with its mighty swell
• 40:12
  Speaker 1: gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell of Hecatey
• 40:18
  Speaker 1: leaves them their old shadowy sound. Often tis in such
• 40:23
  Speaker 1: gentle temper, found that scarcely will the very smallest shell
• 40:29
  Speaker 1: be mov'd for days from whence it some time fell,
• 40:34
  Speaker 1: when last the winds of heav'n where unbound. Oh ye,
• 40:40
  Speaker 1: who have your eyeballs vexed and tired, Feast them upon
• 40:44
  Speaker 1: the wideness of the sea. Oh ye whose ears are
• 40:49
  Speaker 1: dinned with uproar rood, or fed too much with cloying melody,
• 40:55
  Speaker 1: Sit ye near some old cavern's mouth and rude until
• 41:01
  Speaker 1: ye start as if the sea nymphs quired August eighteen seventeen.
• 41:10
  Speaker 1: End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 41:19
  Speaker 1: To the Nile by John Keats read for LibriVox dot org,
• 41:27
  Speaker 1: Sun of the old Moon, mountains, African chief of the pyramid,
• 41:33
  Speaker 1: and crocodile. We call thee fruitful, and that very while
• 41:38
  Speaker 1: a desert fills our seeings inward span nurse of swart
• 41:43
  Speaker 1: nations since the world began, Art thou so fruitful? Or
• 41:49
  Speaker 1: dost thou beguile such men to honor thee who worn
• 41:54
  Speaker 1: with toil rest for a space TwixT Cairo and Decon.
• 42:00
  Speaker 1: Oh may dark fancies er they surely do tis ignorance
• 42:06
  Speaker 1: that makes a barren waste of all beyond itself. Thou
• 42:11
  Speaker 1: dost be due green rushes like our rivers, and dost
• 42:15
  Speaker 1: taste the pleasant sunrise green isles. Hast thou too, And
• 42:22
  Speaker 1: to the sea as happily dost haste eighteen eighteen. End
• 42:30
  Speaker 1: of poem. This recording is in the public domain. On
• 42:40
  Speaker 1: visiting the Tomb off Burns by John Keats read for
• 42:45
  Speaker 1: LibriVox dot org. The town, the churchyard and the setting sun,
• 42:53
  Speaker 1: The clouds, the trees, the rounded hills all seem, though beautiful, cold, strange,
• 43:02
  Speaker 1: as in a dream I dream'd long ago, Now new begun.
• 43:08
  Speaker 1: The short lived palely summer is but one from winter's age,
• 43:13
  Speaker 1: for one hour's gleam. Though sapphire warm, their stars do
• 43:19
  Speaker 1: never beam. All is cold, beauty, pain is never done
• 43:26
  Speaker 1: for who has mine to relish minus wise the real
• 43:30
  Speaker 1: of beauty, free from that dead hue, sickly imagination and
• 43:36
  Speaker 1: sick pride cast one upon it burns with honor due
• 43:42
  Speaker 1: I oft have honored thee great shadow, hide thy face,
• 43:48
  Speaker 1: I sin against thy native skies eighteen eighteen, end of poem.
• 43:58
  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. Written in Burn's
• 44:07
  Speaker 1: Cottage by John Keats, redfourlibrivox dot org. This mortal body
• 44:16
  Speaker 1: of a thousand days now fills O burns a space
• 44:20
  Speaker 1: in thine own room, where thou didst dream alone on
• 44:24
  Speaker 1: budded bays, happy and thoughtless of thy day of doom.
• 44:30
  Speaker 1: My pulse is warm with thine own barley brie. My
• 44:34
  Speaker 1: head is light with pledging a great soul. My eyes
• 44:38
  Speaker 1: are wandering and I cannot see. Fancy is dead and drunken.
• 44:44
  Speaker 1: At its goal. Yet Can I stamp my foot upon
• 44:49
  Speaker 1: thy floor? Yet? Can I open thy window sash to
• 44:53
  Speaker 1: find the meadow thou hast tramped or and ar? Yet?
• 44:58
  Speaker 1: Can I think thee till thought is blind? Yet? Can
• 45:03
  Speaker 1: I gulp a bumper to thy name? O? Smile among
• 45:08
  Speaker 1: the shades, For this is fame eighteen eighteen. End of poem.
• 45:17
  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. To ailsa Rock
• 45:28
  Speaker 1: by John Keats, read forlibrivox dot org. Parken Thou craggy
• 45:36
  Speaker 1: ocean pyramid, give answer by thy voice? The seafowl screams.
• 45:44
  Speaker 1: When were thy shoulders mantled in huge streams? When from
• 45:49
  Speaker 1: the sun was thy broad forehead hid? How longest since
• 45:55
  Speaker 1: the mighty power bid thee heave to erey? Sleep from
• 45:59
  Speaker 1: father dreams. Sleep in the lap of thunder or sunbeams,
• 46:05
  Speaker 1: Or when gray clouds are thy cold cover lid. Thou
• 46:11
  Speaker 1: answerest not for thou art dead asleep. Thy life is
• 46:17
  Speaker 1: but two dead eternities, the last in air, the former
• 46:22
  Speaker 1: in the deep, first with the whales, last with the
• 46:27
  Speaker 1: eagle skies drowned, whilst thou till an earthquake made thee
• 46:32
  Speaker 1: steep another cannot wake thy giant sighs eighteen eighteen, end
• 46:42
  Speaker 1: of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Ben
• 46:52
  Speaker 1: Nevis by John Keats, read forourlibrivox dot org. Read me
• 47:00
  Speaker 1: a lesson, muse, and speak it loud upon the top
• 47:03
  Speaker 1: of Nevis. Blind in mist, I look into the chasms,
• 47:07
  Speaker 1: and a shroud vaporous doth hide them. Just so much
• 47:11
  Speaker 1: I wist mankind do know of Hell. I look overhead,
• 47:16
  Speaker 1: and there is sullen mist. Even so much mankind can
• 47:20
  Speaker 1: tell of Heaven. Mistis spread before the earth beneath me.
• 47:25
  Speaker 1: Even such, even so vague is man's sight of himself.
• 47:30
  Speaker 1: Here are the craggy stones beneath my feet. Thus much
• 47:34
  Speaker 1: I know that a poor, witless helf I tread on them,
• 47:39
  Speaker 1: that all my eye doth meet is mist and crag,
• 47:42
  Speaker 1: not only on this height, but in the world of
• 47:46
  Speaker 1: thought and mental might eighteen eighteen. End of poem. This
• 47:54
  Speaker 1: recording is in the public domain. To one who has
• 48:03
  Speaker 1: been long in City Pent by John Keats, read for
• 48:09
  Speaker 1: LibriVox dot org. To one who has been long in
• 48:14
  Speaker 1: city Pent, tis very sweet to look into the fair
• 48:18
  Speaker 1: and open face of Heaven, to breathe a prayer full
• 48:22
  Speaker 1: in the smile of the blue firmament, who is more
• 48:26
  Speaker 1: happy when with hearts content fatigued, He sinks into some
• 48:31
  Speaker 1: pleasant lair of wavy grass and reads a debonair and
• 48:36
  Speaker 1: gentle tale of love and languishment. Returning home at evening
• 48:42
  Speaker 1: with an ear catching the notes of Philammel and I
• 48:46
  Speaker 1: watching the sailing Cloudlet's bright career, he mourns that day
• 48:51
  Speaker 1: so soon has glided by e'en, like the passage of
• 48:56
  Speaker 1: an angel's tear that falls through the clear ether silently.
• 49:04
  Speaker 1: End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 49:13
  Speaker 1: The Human Seasons by John Keats read for LibriVox dot
• 49:19
  Speaker 1: org by Bruskachuk. Four seasons fill the measure of the year.
• 49:25
  Speaker 1: There are four seasons in the mind of man. He
• 49:28
  Speaker 1: has his lusty spring, when fancy clear takes in all
• 49:33
  Speaker 1: beauty with an easy span. He has his summer, when
• 49:37
  Speaker 1: luxuriously springs honeyed cut off youthful thought. He loves to ruminate,
• 49:43
  Speaker 1: and by such dreaming high is nearest unto heaven. Quiet
• 49:48
  Speaker 1: coves his soul has in its autumn, when his wings
• 49:52
  Speaker 1: he furleth close, contented so to look on mists in idleness,
• 49:58
  Speaker 1: to let fair thing pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
• 50:04
  Speaker 1: He has his winter too of pale misfeature, or else
• 50:09
  Speaker 1: he would forego his mortal nature. End of poem. This
• 50:16
  Speaker 1: recording is in the public domain. Written before rereading King
• 50:26
  Speaker 1: Lear by John Keats read for LibriVox dot org All
• 50:33
  Speaker 1: golden tongued romance with serene lute, fair plumed siren, queen
• 50:40
  Speaker 1: of far away leave, melodizing on this wintry day. Shut
• 50:45
  Speaker 1: up thine olden pages and be mute adieu, for once
• 50:51
  Speaker 1: again the fierce dispute betwixt damnation and impassioned clay. Must
• 50:56
  Speaker 1: I burn through once morembly essay the bitter sweet of
• 51:02
  Speaker 1: this Shakespearian fruit, chief poet, and ye clouds of Albion,
• 51:09
  Speaker 1: begetters of our deep eternal theme. When through the old
• 51:13
  Speaker 1: oak forest I am gone, Let me not wander in
• 51:17
  Speaker 1: a barren dream. But when I am consumed in the fire,
• 51:22
  Speaker 1: give me new phoenix wings to fly at my desire.
• 51:30
  Speaker 1: January eighteen eighteen. End of poem. This recording is in
• 51:36
  Speaker 1: the public domain. From Ronsars fragment of a sonnet by
• 51:47
  Speaker 1: John Keats Readfolibrivox dot org Nature withheld Cassandra in the
• 51:55
  Speaker 1: skies for more adornment a full thousand years. She took
• 52:01
  Speaker 1: their cream of beauty, fairest dies, and shaped and tinted
• 52:06
  Speaker 1: her above all peers. Meanwhile, Love kept her dearly with
• 52:11
  Speaker 1: his wings, and underneath their shadow filled her eyes with
• 52:15
  Speaker 1: such a richness that the cloudy kings of High Olympus
• 52:19
  Speaker 1: uttered slavish sighs. When from the heavens I saw her
• 52:25
  Speaker 1: first descend, My heart took fire, and only burning pains.
• 52:31
  Speaker 1: They were my pleasures, They my life's sad, and Love
• 52:37
  Speaker 1: poured her beauty into my warm veins. End of poem.
• 52:44
  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. Answer to a
• 52:53
  Speaker 1: sonnet by J. H. Reynolds ending, dark eyes are dearer
• 52:58
  Speaker 1: far than those that mock the Hyacinthine bell by John Keats,
• 53:05
  Speaker 1: read for LibriVox dot org. Blue tis the life of Heaven,
• 53:12
  Speaker 1: the domain of Cynthia, the wide palace of the Sun,
• 53:16
  Speaker 1: the tent of Hesperus and all his train, the bosomer
• 53:21
  Speaker 1: of clouds, gold, gray, and dun Blue tis the life
• 53:28
  Speaker 1: of waters, ocean and all its vassal streams. Pools numberless
• 53:34
  Speaker 1: may rage and foam and fret, but never can subside
• 53:40
  Speaker 1: if not too dark. Blue nativeness, blue gentle cousin of
• 53:46
  Speaker 1: the forest green, married to green in all the sweetest flowers.
• 53:51
  Speaker 1: Forget me not the blue bell, and that queen of
• 53:55
  Speaker 1: secrecy the violet. What strange power hast thou as a
• 54:01
  Speaker 1: mere shadow? But how great when in an eye thou
• 54:06
  Speaker 1: art alive with fate. February eighteen eighteen end of poem.
• 54:15
  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. To Homer by
• 54:25
  Speaker 1: John Keats read for LibriVox dot org standing aloof in
• 54:32
  Speaker 1: giant ignorance, of thee I hear and of the cichlides
• 54:37
  Speaker 1: as one who sits ashore and longs perchance to visit
• 54:41
  Speaker 1: dolphin coral in deep seas. So thou wast blind. But
• 54:47
  Speaker 1: then the veil was rent for Jove un curtained heaven
• 54:52
  Speaker 1: to let thee live, and Neptune made for thee a
• 54:56
  Speaker 1: spumey tent, and panmates sing for thee his forest hive ay.
• 55:03
  Speaker 1: On the shores of darkness, there is light, and precipices
• 55:08
  Speaker 1: show on trodden green. There is a budding morrow in midnight.
• 55:15
  Speaker 1: There is a triple sight in blindness. Keen, such seeing
• 55:20
  Speaker 1: hadst thou, as it once befell to Diane, Queen of
• 55:26
  Speaker 1: Earth and Heaven and Hell eighteen eighteen. End of poem.
• 55:34
  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. To John Hamilton
• 55:44
  Speaker 1: Reynolds by John Keats readfolibrivox dot org. Oh, that a
• 55:52
  Speaker 1: week could be an age, and we felt parting and
• 55:55
  Speaker 1: warm meeting every week, than one poor year A thousand
• 56:00
  Speaker 1: years would be the flush of welcome ever on the cheek.
• 56:05
  Speaker 1: So could we live long life in little space? So
• 56:09
  Speaker 1: time itself would be annihilate, So a day's journey in
• 56:13
  Speaker 1: oblivious haze to serve our joys would lengthen and dilate. Oh,
• 56:20
  Speaker 1: to arrive each Monday morn from end to land each Tuesday,
• 56:25
  Speaker 1: from the rich levant in little time, a host of
• 56:29
  Speaker 1: joys to bind and keep our souls in one eternal pant.
• 56:34
  Speaker 1: This morn, my friend and yester evening taught me how
• 56:39
  Speaker 1: to harbor such a happy thought. End of poem. This
• 56:46
  Speaker 1: recording is in the public domain. To a lady scene
• 56:55
  Speaker 1: for a few moments at Vauxhall by John Keats read
• 56:59
  Speaker 1: for Life LibriVox dot org. Times see hath been five
• 57:05
  Speaker 1: years at its slow ebb. Long hours have to and
• 57:09
  Speaker 1: fro let creep the sand, since I was tangled in
• 57:13
  Speaker 1: thy beauty's web, and snared by the unbloving of thine hand.
• 57:18
  Speaker 1: And yet I never look on midnight sky, but I
• 57:21
  Speaker 1: behold thine eyes well memoried light. I cannot look upon
• 57:26
  Speaker 1: the roses dye, but to thy cheek my soul doth
• 57:30
  Speaker 1: take its flight. I cannot look on any budding flower,
• 57:34
  Speaker 1: but my fond ear in fancy at thy lips, and
• 57:38
  Speaker 1: hearkening for a love sound doth devour its sweets in
• 57:43
  Speaker 1: the wrong sense. Thou dusty clips every delight with sweet
• 57:49
  Speaker 1: remembering and grief. Unto my darling joys dost bring. End
• 57:57
  Speaker 1: of poem. This recording is in the public domain. To
• 58:06
  Speaker 1: Sleep by John Keats redfourlibrivox dot org o, soft in
• 58:14
  Speaker 1: balmer of the still midnight, shutting with careful fingers and
• 58:19
  Speaker 1: benign our, gloom, pleased eyes, embowered from the light, and
• 58:24
  Speaker 1: shaded in forgetfulness, divine o soothest sleep. If so it
• 58:30
  Speaker 1: please thee clothes in midst of this thine hymn my
• 58:35
  Speaker 1: willing eyes, or wait thee amen ere thy puppy throws
• 58:41
  Speaker 1: around my bed its lulling charities, Then save me, or
• 58:46
  Speaker 1: the past day will shine upon my pillow, breeding many woes.
• 58:52
  Speaker 1: Save me from curious conscience that still lords its strength
• 58:58
  Speaker 1: for darkness, borrowing like a mole, Turn the key deftly
• 59:04
  Speaker 1: in the oiled wards and seal the hushed casket of
• 59:09
  Speaker 1: my soul eighteen nineteen. End of poem. This recording is
• 59:16
  Speaker 1: in the public domain. On Fame by John Keats read
• 59:27
  Speaker 1: for LibriVox dot Org. Fame like a wayward girl will
• 59:34
  Speaker 1: still be coy to those who woo her with two
• 59:38
  Speaker 1: slavish knees, but make surrender to some thoughtless boy and
• 59:43
  Speaker 1: doats the more upon a heart at ease. She is
• 59:48
  Speaker 1: a gypsy, will not speak to those who have not
• 59:51
  Speaker 1: learned to be content without her, A jilt whose ear
• 59:56
  Speaker 1: was never whispered close who thinks they scandal her? Who
• 1:00:00
  Speaker 1: talk about her? A very gipsy? Is she nihilis born
• 1:00:06
  Speaker 1: sister in law to jealous potiphar. Ye love sick bards,
• 1:00:12
  Speaker 1: repay her scorn for scorn, Ye artists, love lorn madmen
• 1:00:19
  Speaker 1: that ye are. Make your best bow to her and
• 1:00:23
  Speaker 1: bid adieu. Then if she likes it, she will follow you.
• 1:00:30
  Speaker 1: Eighteen nineteen. End of poem. This recording is in the
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  Speaker 1: public domain. On Fame by John Keats, Readfourlibrivox dot org.
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  Speaker 1: You cannot eat your cake and have it too proverb
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  Speaker 1: How fevered is the man who cannot look upon his
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  Speaker 1: mortal days its temperate blood, who vexes all the leaves
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  Speaker 1: of his life's book, and robs his fair name of
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  Speaker 1: its maidenhood. It is as if the rose should pluck herself,
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  Speaker 1: or the ripe plum finger its misty bloom, as if
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  Speaker 1: a naiad, like a meddling elf, should darken her pure
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  Speaker 1: grot with muddy gloom. But the rose leaves herself upon
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  Speaker 1: the briar for winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed,
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  Speaker 1: And the ripe plum still wears its dim attire. The
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  Speaker 1: undisturbed lake has crystal space. Why then, should man teasing
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  Speaker 1: the world for grace spoil his salvation for a fierce miscreed?
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  Speaker 1: Eighteen nineteen end of poem. This recording is in the
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  Speaker 1: public domain. Why did I laugh to night? No voice
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  Speaker 1: will tell? By John Keats read for LibriVox dot org.
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  Speaker 1: Why did I laugh to night? No voice will tell?
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  Speaker 1: No God, no demon of severe response deigns to reply
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  Speaker 1: from heaven or from hell. Then to my human heart,
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  Speaker 1: I turn at once heart. Thou and I are here
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  Speaker 1: said and alone, I say, why did I laugh? Oh
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  Speaker 1: mortal pain, Oh darkness, darkness? Ever must I moan to
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  Speaker 1: question heaven and hell and heart in vain? Why did
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  Speaker 1: I laugh? I know this being's lease, my fancy to
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  Speaker 1: its utmost blisses spreads. Yet would I on this very
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  Speaker 1: midnight cease and the world's gaudye ensigns see in shreds
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  Speaker 1: verse Fame and beauty are intense, indeed, but death intenser.
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  Speaker 1: Death is life's high Meed, eighteen nineteen, end a poem.
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  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. A dream after
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  Speaker 1: reading Dante's episode of Paolo and Francesca by John Keats
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  Speaker 1: read Forlibrivox dot org As Hermes once took to his
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  Speaker 1: feathers light when Lord Argas baffled, swooned, and slept so on,
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  Speaker 1: Adelphic read my idol sprite, so played, so charmed, so conquer'd,
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  Speaker 1: so bereft the dragon world of all its hundred eyes,
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  Speaker 1: and seeing it asleep, so fled away. Not too pure
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  Speaker 1: Ida with its snow cold skies, nor unto Tempe, where
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  Speaker 1: Jove grieved a day, but to that second circle of
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  Speaker 1: sad hell, wherein the gust the whirlwind and the flaw
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  Speaker 1: of rain and hailstones. Lovers need not tell their sorrows
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  Speaker 1: pale where the sweet lips I saw pale, where the
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  Speaker 1: lips I kissed, and fair the form I floated with
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  Speaker 1: about that melancholy storm eighteen nineteen, end a poem. This
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  Speaker 1: recording is in the public domain. If by dull rhymes,
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  Speaker 1: our English must be chained by John Keats read for
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  Speaker 1: LibriVox dot org. If by dull rhymes, our English must
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  Speaker 1: be chained, and like Andromeda the sonnet sweet fettered in
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  Speaker 1: spite of pained loveliness. Let us find out if we
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  Speaker 1: must be constrained sandals more interwoven and complete to fit
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  Speaker 1: the naked foot of poesy. Let us inspect the lyre
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  Speaker 1: and weigh the stress of every chord, and see what
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  Speaker 1: may be gained by ear industrous and attention. Meet misers
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  Speaker 1: of sound and syllable no less than Midas of his coinage.
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  Speaker 1: Let us be jealous of dead leaves in the bay
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  Speaker 1: wreath crown, so if we may not let the muse
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  Speaker 1: be free, she will be bound with garlands of her
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  Speaker 1: own eighteen nineteen end of poem. This recording is in
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  Speaker 1: the public domain. The day is gone and all its
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  Speaker 1: sweets are gone. By John Keats readfolibrivox dot org. The
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  Speaker 1: day is gone, and all its sweets are gone. Sweet voice,
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  Speaker 1: sweet lips, soft hand and softer breast, warm breath, light, whisper, tender,
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  Speaker 1: semi tone, bright eyes, accomplished shape and languorous waste faded.
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  Speaker 1: The flower and all its budded charms faded. The sight
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  Speaker 1: of beauty from my eyes faded, the shape of beauty
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  Speaker 1: from my arms faded. The voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise vanished unseasonably.
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  Speaker 1: At shot of eve, when the dusk holiday or hollid
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  Speaker 1: night of fragrant curtained love begins to weave the wolf
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  Speaker 1: of darkness thick forehead delight. But as I've read love's
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  Speaker 1: missile through today, he'll let me sleep seeing I fast
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  Speaker 1: and pray eighteen nineteen. End of poem. This recording is
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  Speaker 1: in the public domain too. Fanny by John Keats read
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  Speaker 1: for LibriVox dot org. I cry your mercy pity love.
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  Speaker 1: I love merciful love that tantalizes not one thoughted, never wondering,
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  Speaker 1: guileless love, unmasked and being seen without a blot. Oh,
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  Speaker 1: let me have the whole, all, all be mine, that shape,
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  Speaker 1: that fairness, that sweet miner zest of love, your kiss,
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  Speaker 1: those hands, those eyes divine, that warm, white, loosened, million,
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  Speaker 1: pleasured breast, yourself, your soul in pity, give me all
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  Speaker 1: withhold no atoms atom, or I die, or living on
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  Speaker 1: perhaps your wretched thrall forget in the mist of idle
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  Speaker 1: misery life's permphases, the palette of my mind losing its
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  Speaker 1: gust and my ambition blind eighteen nineteen end a poem.
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  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain. His Last Sonnet
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  Speaker 1: by John Keats readfourlibrivox dot org, bright Star. Would I
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  Speaker 1: were steadfast as thou art, not in lone splendor, hung
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  Speaker 1: aloft the night and watching with eternal lids apart, like
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  Speaker 1: nature's patient sleepless eramite the moving waters at their priestlike
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  Speaker 1: task of pure ablution round herts, human shores, or gazing
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  Speaker 1: on the new, soft fallen mask of snow upon the
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  Speaker 1: mountains and the mors. No yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,
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  Speaker 1: pillowed upon my fair love's ripening breast, to feel forever
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  Speaker 1: it's soft fall and swell awake forever in a sweet unrest,
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  Speaker 1: still still to hear her tender taken breath, and so
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  Speaker 1: live ever or else Swoon to death eighteen twenty end
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  Speaker 1: a poem. This recording's in the public domain. End of
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  Speaker 1: the Sonnets of John Keats.