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Dance And Provencal Song And Sunburnt Mirth! Oh For A Beaker Full Of The Warm South, Full Of The True, The Blushful Hippocrene!
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Dance and Provencal song and sunburnt mirth!
Oh for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene!
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth.
-- John Keats (1795-1821)
-- Ode to a Nightingale
Related:
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for home She stood in tears amid the alien co
The same that ofttimes hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn....
Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, Flushing his brow.
-- John Keats (1795-1821) -- The Eve of St. Agnes, Stanza 16...
Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time. -- John Keats (1795-1821) -- Ode on a Grecian U
In a full belly all the devils dance. -- Established Monkish Proverb
But then her face, So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth, the overflowings of an innocent heart.
-- Roge...
Beauty is truth, truth beauty, --that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
-- John Keats (1795-1821) -- Ode on a Grecian U...
Thou, silent form, doth tease us out of thought As doth eternity
Cold Pastoral! -- John Keats (1795-1821) -- Ode on a Grecian U...
Ned: Bart, I've barely been here a good solid week, and you've been sent to my office eleven times.
And now that I have peanut butter cups, you seem to be getting in trouble every hour....
And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm.
-- John Dryden (1631-1700) -- Imitation of Horace, Book iii, Ode 29, Line 87...