This is to certify that I am madly in love with JOHN KEATS.He has made me crazy of Medievalism and Hellenism.He was the strongest factor of Romantic Era in English Literature.Wentworth Place is Keats house museum in Hampstead, one of the places I aspire to visit.
John Keats died on 23 February 1821 and was buried in the Protestant Cemetery, Rome. His last request was to be buried under a tombstone, without his name, and bearing only the legend (in pentameter), “Here lies one whose name was writ in water.” Severn and Brown erected the stone. Under a relief of a lyre with broken strings, the Epitaph reads:
contains all that was Mortal,
Young English Poet,
on his Death Bed, in the Bitterness of his Heart,
at the Malicious Power of his Enemies,
these Words to be engraved on his Tomb Stone:
Here lies One
Whose Name was writ in Water?
His poem la belle dame sans merci is one of the best creations ever.It speaks of female beauty in all its charms.
He said – Beauty is truth.The truth is Beauty.
No one could feel and express the female charms and beauty of nature like he did.He died at an early age of 25.It is believed he would have reached Shakespearean heights.Love of his life was Fanny Brawne whom he loved with all his heart and soul and dedicated most of the works for her.
Keats writes to Brawne in another of his many hundreds of notes and letters:
My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you — I am forgetful of everything but seeing you again — my Life seems to stop there — I see no further. You have absorbed me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving — I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you. […] I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion — I have shuddered at it — I shudder no more — I could be martyred for my Religion — Love is my religion — I could die for that — I could die for you. (Letter, 13 October 1819).
His unconditional love for her can be felt in the words below-
Do understand me, my love, in this. I have so much of you in my heart that I must turn Mentor when I see a chance of harm befalling you. I would never see anything but Pleasure in your eyes, love on your lips, and Happiness in your steps. I would wish to see you among those amusements suitable to your inclinations and spirits; so that our lives might be a delight in the midst of Pleasures agreeable enough, rather than a resource from vexations and cares. But I doubt much, in a case of the worst, whether I shall be philosopher enough to follow my own Lessons.
When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of the window: you always concentrate my whole senses. The anxiety shown about our Loves in your last note is an immense pleasure to me: however you must not suffer such speculations to molest you anymore: