"Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul."
"I am convinced more and more day by day that fine writing is next to fine doing, the top thing in the world."
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Source: Letter to J. H. Reynolds, 24 August 1819, in H. E. Rollins (ed.) 'The Letters of John Keats' (1958) vol. 2, p. 146
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