After Shakespeare there is no more musical poet in the English language than Keats. His long - reflecting lines have a depth of sensual beauty, incredible in imagery and reflection. The 'Truth is Beauty, and Beauty is Truth" conclusion of the great "Ode on a Grecian Urn" could serve as motto for his verse. In the great Odes, the Nightingale Ode, Ode to Autumn, Ode on a Grecian Urn he seems to strain poetic feeling into a new dimension of pained longing. " Perhaps the self- same song that found a path, Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn;The same that oft-times hath Charmed magic casements, opening on the form , Of perilous seas in faery lands forlorn" can move us magically to a sense of the vision or waking dream, the music that brings us beyond ourselves and sleep into the most sublime realm of poetry.
He did die young but not before his pen had gleemed his teeming brain " in great lines living still today.