Literary Collections
Penguin
2009
132
I have two luxuries to brood over...your Loveliness and the hour of my death
Though John Keats (1795-1821) died when he was just twenty-five years old, he left behind some of the most exquisite and moving poetry ever written.
He also left an incredibly beautiful and tender collection of love letters, inspired by his great love for Fanny Brawne. Although they knew each other for just a few short years and spent a great deal of that time due to Keats' worsening illness, which forced him to live abroad, Keats wrote again and again about Fanny--his very last poem is called simply "To Fanny"--and wrote love letters to her constantly. She, in turn, would wear the ring he had given her until her death.
This remarkable volume contains the love poems and correspondence composed by Keats in the heat of his passion, and is a dazzling display of a talent cruelly cut short.
My Review: John Keats is hands down the best romantic poet out there and my personal favorite poet! Early this year I had the opportunity to visit John Keats house in London. There I witnessed his life, his writings and poems, and his undying love for Fanny. I was overwhelmed with emotion and love for John Keats while I was there. I came to appreciate life more, after seeing how short of a life John Keats had. It is an experience I will never forget.
John Keats died at the age of 25 believing himself to be unsuccessful, little did he know that he would become one of the most successful poets of all time.
This book serves as a companion to the 2009 movie “Bright Star,” one of my favorite movies of all time. Even though the movie focuses on the romantic relationship between John Keats and Fanny Brawne, this book offers selected letters and poetry that John Keats wrote to Fanny. Sadly none of Fanny’s letters have survived.
Through the letters and the poetry you can see into John Keats heart. I was in awe at how deep and personal his letters and poetry were. A few tears were shed both from happiness and sadness. The love letters are beautiful, simple, and captivating.
He didn’t just write his poems, he experienced each one. It is painful to know that he died without knowing what he was capable of. I highly recommend book to all romance lovers!
Bright star, would I were stedfast 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 fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever–or else swoon to death.
