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To John Keats

James Henry Leigh Hunt 1784 (Southgate, London) – 1859

'Tis well you think me truly one of those,
Whose sense discerns the loveliness of things;
For surely as I feel the bird that sings
Behind the leaves, or dawn as it up grows,
Or the rich bee rejoicing as he goes,
Or the glad issue of emerging springs,
Or overhead the glide of a dove's wings,
Or turf, or trees, or, midst of all, repose.
And surely as I feel things lovelier still,
The human look, and the harmonious form
Containing woman, and the smile in ill,
And such a heart as Charles's, wise and warm,--
As surely as all this, I see, ev'n now,
Young Keats, a flowering laurel on your brow.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

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James Henry Leigh Hunt

James Henry Leigh Hunt, best known as Leigh Hunt, was an English critic, essayist, poet and writer. more…

All James Henry Leigh Hunt poems | James Henry Leigh Hunt Books

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    "To John Keats" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 23 Jun 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/20130/to-john-keats>.

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