I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days — three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain. – John Keats
Now a soft kiss – Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss. – John Keats
O fret not after knowledge — I have none, and yet my song comes native with the warmth. O fret not after knowledge — I have none, and yet the Evening listens. – John Keats
Poetry should be great and unobtrusive, a thing which enters into ones soul, and does not startle it or amaze it with itself, but with its subject. – John Keats