Spotlight Poetry – I Had a Dove – A Poem by John Keats

The image depicts a painting titled Lonesome Dove by the artist Greg Farrugia. The work is a vibrant realistic bird painting of a lone white dove perched on a spring pink blossom twig. The image supports the poem I Had a Dove written by John Keats the poet.
© Greg Farrugia, Lonesome Dove, 2020

I Had a Dove by John Keats

I had a dove and the sweet dove died;
And I have thought it died of grieving.

O, what could it grieve for? Its feet were tied,
With a silken thread of my own hand’s weaving;
Sweet little red feet! why should you die –
Why should you leave me, sweet bird! why?

You lived alone in the forest-tree,
Why, pretty thing, could you not live with me?
I kissed you oft and gave you white peas;
Why not live sweetly, as in the green trees?

Poem Attribution © John Keats, I Had a Dove

Source Attribution https://www.poetrybyheart.org.uk/poems/i-had-a-dove/

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Painting Attribution © Greg Farrugia, Lonesome Dove, 2020

Source Attribution https://fineartamerica.com/featured/lonesome-dove-greg-farrugia.html

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Spotlight Poetry – To Autumn – A poem by John Keats

The image depicts a painting titled Mist by the artist Farahnaz Samari. The work is a vibrant impressionistic landscape painting that captures with its autumnal hues and swirling mist the apparent haunting majesty of sunrise.
© Farahnaz Samari, Mist, 2015

To Autumn by John Keats

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
   Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

Conspiring with him how to load and bless
   With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
   And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

      To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
   With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,

      For summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
   Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find

Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
   Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
   Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook

      Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
   Steady thy laden head across a brook;
   Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,

      Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?
   Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—

While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
   And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
   Among the river sallows, borne aloft

      Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
   Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
   The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;

      And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

Poem Attribution © John Keats, To Autumn

Copyright (c) 2021 Goff James – All Rights Reserved 

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Painting Attribution © Farahnaz Samari, Mist, 2015

Source Attribution https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-Mist/816783/2721032/view

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Spotlight Poetry – To a Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses – A poem by John Keats 

The image depicts a painting titled Wild Roses by the artist Joanne Porter. The work is a painting of two pink and white wild rose flower heads in full bloom with some leaves as a background. The image supports the poem To a Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses written by the poet John Keats.
© Joanne Porter, Wild Roses, (Date Unstated)

To a Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses by John Keats 

As late I rambled in the happy fields,
   What time the sky-lark shakes the tremulous dew

   From his lush clover covert;—when anew
Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields:
I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields,
   A fresh-blown musk-rose; ’twas the first that threw

   Its sweets upon the summer: graceful it grew
As is the wand that queen Titania wields.
And, as I feasted on its fragrancy,
   I thought the garden-rose it far excell’d:

But when, O Wells! thy roses came to me
   My sense with their deliciousness was spell’d:
Soft voices had they, that with tender plea
   Whisper’d of peace, and truth, and friendliness unquell’d.

Poem Attribution © John Keats, To a Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses

Source Attribution https://poets.org/poem/friend-who-sent-me-some-roses

Painting Attribution © Joanne Porter, Wild Roses, (Date Unstated)

Source Attribution https://fineartamerica.com/featured/wild-roses-joanne-porter.html?product=art-print

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Spotlight Poetry – Meg Merrilies – A poem by John Keats

© Isabel Ferreira, Late Summer in the Moors, 2020

Meg Merrilies by John Keats

Old Meg she was a Gipsy,
       And liv’d upon the Moors:

Her bed it was the brown heath turf,
       And her house was out of doors.

Her apples were swart blackberries,
       Her currants pods o’ broom;

Her wine was dew of the wild white rose,
       Her book a churchyard tomb.

Her Brothers were the craggy hills,
       Her Sisters larchen trees—

Alone with her great family
       She liv’d as she did please.

No breakfast had she many a morn,
       No dinner many a noon,

And ‘stead of supper she would stare
       Full hard against the Moon.

But every morn of woodbine fresh
       She made her garlanding,

And every night the dark glen Yew
       She wove, and she would sing.

And with her fingers old and brown
       She plaited Mats o’ Rushes,

And gave them to the Cottagers
       She met among the Bushes.

Old Meg was brave as Margaret Queen
       And tall as Amazon:

An old red blanket cloak she wore;
       A chip hat had she on.
God rest her aged bones somewhere—
       She died full long agone!

Poem Attribution © John Keats, Meg Merrilies

Source Attribution https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47348/meg-merrilies

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Painting Attribution © Isabel Ferreira, Late Summer in the Moors, 2020

Source Attribution https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-Late-Summer-in-the-moors/681531/8025744/view

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Spotlight Poetry – On the Grasshopper and Cricket – A poem by John Keats

On the Grasshopper and Cricket by John Keats

The Poetry of earth is never dead:    
  When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,    

  And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run    
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;    
That is the Grasshopper’s—he takes the lead      
  In summer luxury,—he has never done    

  With his delights; for when tired out with fun    
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.    
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:    
  On a lone winter evening, when the frost     

    Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills    
The Cricket’s song, in warmth increasing ever,    
  And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,    
    The Grasshopper’s among some grassy hills.

Poem Attribution © John Keats, On the Grasshopper and Cricket

Source Attribution https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/53210/on-the-grasshopper-and-cricket

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Painting Attribution © Alejos Lorenzo, Nature is the Law, 2017

Source Attribution https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-Nature-is-the-law-pop-art-landscape/722959/3828678/view

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Spotlight Poetry – from Endymion – A poem by John Keats

© Vladimir Misyts, Beauty of Nature, 2012

from Endymion by John Keats

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never

Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing

A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkened ways

Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon

For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
‘Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,

Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:

An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink.

Poem Attribution © John Keats, from Endymion, (A Poetic Romance – excerpt)

Source Attribution https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44469/endymion-56d2239287ca5

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Painting Attribution © Vladimir Misyts, Beauty of Nature, 2012

Source Attribution https://pixels.com/featured/3-beauty-of-nature-vladimir-misyts.html

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Spotlight Poetry – Last Sonnet – A poem by John Keats

© Tamaz Gogoladze, Harlequin

Last Sonnet – “Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art” – by John Keats

Poem Attribution © John Keats, Last Sonnet (“Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art”)

Source Attribution https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44468/bright-star-would-i-were-stedfast-as-thou-art

Painting Attribution © Tamaz Gogoladze, Harlequin, (Date Unstated)

Source Attribution https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-Harlequin/824638/4496495/view

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Poetry Spotlight – On the Sea – Poem of the day by John Keats

On the Sea by John Keats

Poem Attribution © John Keats, On the Sea

Source Attributionhttps://www.thereader.org.uk/featured-poem-on-the-sea-by-john-keats-2/

Painting Attribution © Elinor Rowlands, The Cave, (Date Unstated)

Source Attribution https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-The-Cave/1656979/7908914/view

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Poetry Spotlight – The Human Seasons – A poem by John Keats

The Human Seasons by John Keats

Poem Attribution © John Keats, The Human Seasons

Source Attribution https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44472/the-human-seasons

Painting Attribution © Clark Prosperi, Four Seasons, (Date Unstated)

Source Attribution https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-Four-Seasons-Custom-Commission-SOLD/92973/2858780/view

Video Attribution 나선형

Music Attribution (Unstated)

Source Attribution https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mPH0ZpHphh4

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