My first literary crush might have been on John Keats. I can’t be sure because I did an aweful lot of swooning over poets when I was younger. That’s not to say my love of Keats is simple and fleeting. Rather, that I was head over heals in love with the rhythm of poetry. Period. Full stop.
As I got older some of my literary crushes fell to the side but never Keats. In fact, I have a tiny, palm-sized, collection of Keat’s poetry that I keep in my nightstand.
He had a sad, short life filled with illness and heartache. His story fascinates me almost as much as his work.
Here is my favorite:
Bright Star – John Keats
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art —
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like Nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors —
No — yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft swell and fall,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever — or else swoon to death.
Learn more about his life here. Check out his collections of his work here.
Who’s is your favorite poet?
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