"Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul."
"How astonishingly does the chance of leaving the world improve a sense of its natural beauties upon us. Like poor Falstaff, although I do not 'babble,' I think of green fields; I muse with the greatest affection on every flower I have know from my infancy - their shapes and colours are as new to me as if I had just created them with superhuman fancy."
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Source: John Keats (1818). “The Complete Works of John Keats”, p.178
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