The poem “A Thing of beauty is a joy forever”, is taken from From “Endymion” Book I, written by John Keats (1795–1821).
A THING of beauty is a joy forever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness, but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and asleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
’Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink
Beauty is a heavenly tonic/drink – an endless fountain of nectar. This beauty comes in different forms – a tale, a poem, a play, a lovely object of nature or heavenly bodies. It soothes our spirits and gives us good health, sound sleep, and mental peace. It removes sadness from our lives and gives an everlasting joy.
To read more such types of poems visits our Poetry section.