“When by my solitary hearth I sit,
When no fair dreams before my “mind’s eye” flit,
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head.”

—  John Keats

Source: The Complete Poems

Last update June 3, 2021. History

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English Romantic poet 1795–1821

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