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Riddle: When I left, I didn't know where I was going; when I got there, I didn't know where I was; when I returned, I didn't know where I had been...
Riddle: Round as a button, Deep as a well. If you want me to talk, You must first pull my tail. What am I?Answer: A bell.
Riddle: They can trickle down, They can tickle too. Or make you sneeze, Or comfort you. Their rustling sound, you've rarely heard, Unless you're a..
Staffa
Not Aladdin magianEver such a work began;Not the wizard of the DeeEver such a dream could see;Not St. John, in Patmos' Isle,In the passion of his..
©  John Keats
To ****
Hadst thou liv'd in days of old,O what wonders had been toldOf thy lively countenance,And thy humid eyes that danceIn the midst of their own..
©  John Keats
Daisy's Song
IThe sun, with his great eye,Sees not so much as I;And the moon, all silver-proud,Might as well be in a cloud.IIAnd O the spring- the springI lead..
©  John Keats
The Devon Maid: Stanzas Sent In A Letter To B. R. Haydon
1.Where be ye going, you Devon maid?And what have ye there i' the basket?Ye tight little fairy, just fresh from the dairy,Will ye give me some cream..
©  John Keats
Riddle: The head of a whale is six feet long; his tail is as long as his head and half his body, and his body is half of his whole length. How long..
Sonnet Ii. To ******
Had I a man's fair form, then might my sighsBe echoed swiftly through that ivory shellThine ear, and find thy gentle heart; so wellWould passion arm..
©  John Keats
To -------
1.Think not of it, sweet one, so;--Give it not a tear;Sigh thou mayst, and bid it goAny, any where.2.Do not look so sad, sweet one,--Sad and..
©  John Keats
Riddle: In camps about the centre I appear; In smiling meadows seen throughout the year; The silent angler views me in the streams, And all must..
Fragment Of 'The Castle Builder.'
To-night I'll have my friar -- let me thinkAbout my room, -- I'll have it in the pink;It should be rich and sombre, and the moon,Just in its mid-life..
©  John Keats
Riddle: There is a certain family with both girl and boy children. Each of the boys has the same number of brothers as he has sisters. Each of the..
Sonnet V. To A Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses
As late I rambled in the happy fields,What time the skylark shakes the tremulous dewFrom his lush clover covert;—when anewAdventurous knights take up..
©  John Keats
Riddle: I herald the darkness which descends on all creatures; You will know my approach by moans and wracked features. I visit the hippo, hyena, and..
Sonnet Xii. On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour
Give me a golden pen, and let me leanOn heaped-up flowers, in regions clear, and far;Bring me a tablet whiter than a star,Or hand of hymning angel..
©  John Keats
Sonnet: As From The Darkening Gloom A Silver Dove
As from the darkening gloom a silver doveUpsoars, and darts into the eastern light,On pinions that nought moves but pure delight,So fled thy soul..
©  John Keats
Extracts From An Opera
O! were I one of the Olympian twelve,Their godships should pass this into law,--That when a man doth set himself in toilAfter some beauty veiled far..
©  John Keats
Riddle: A man left an inheritance of $10,000 to three relatives and their wives. Together the wives received $3960. Janine received $100 more than..
Fragment. Where's The Poet?
Where's the Poet? show him! show him,Muses nine! that I may know him.'Tis the man who with a manIs an equal, be he King,Or poorest of the..
©  John Keats
The Gadfly
1.All gentle folks who owe a grudgeTo any living thingOpen your ears and stay your t[r]udgeWhilst I in dudgeon sing.2.The Gadfly he hath stung me..
©  John Keats
Sonnet. To A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown
Fresh morning gusts have blown away all fearFrom my glad bosom, -- now from gloominessI mount for ever -- not an atom lessThan the proud laurel shall..
©  John Keats
Sonnet Vii. To Solitude
O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,Let it not be among the jumbled heapOf murky buildings: climb with me the steep,—Nature's observatory—whence..
©  John Keats
Sonnet To Chatterton
O Chatterton! how very sad thy fate!Dear child of sorrow -- son of misery!How soon the film of death obscur'd that eye,Whence Genius mildly falsh'd..
©  John Keats
Isabella; Or, The Pot Of Basil: A Story From Boccaccio
I.Fair Isabel, poor simple Isabel!Lorenzo, a young palmer in Love's eye!They could not in the self-same mansion dwellWithout some stir of heart, some..
©  John Keats