"Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul."
"I should write for the mere yearning and fondness I have for the beautiful, even if my night's labors should be burnt every morning and no eye shine upon them."
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Source: John Keats, Baron Richard Monckton Milnes Houghton (1848). “Life, Letters, and Literary Remains, of John Keats”, p.150
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