The Complete Poems of John Keats

The visions all are fled--the car is fled
Into the light of heaven, and in their stead
A sense of real things comes doubly strong,
And, like a muddy stream, would bear along
My soul to nothingness: but I will strive
Against all doublings, and will keep alive
The thought of that same chariot, and the strange
Journey it went.

Sleep and Poetry

But, when I am consumed in the fire,
Give me new Phoenix wings to fly at my desire.

Twas love; cold, - dead indeed, but not dethroned.

Isabella