I don't like Keats half as well as I do Shelley, but I do like him. For one thing, he has this unbelievable ability to get away with melodrama without it actually being humorously overblown: say what you like about 'The Eve of St. Agnes', or 'Isabella', they aren't farcical, and they very easily could have been. And as papersky says so eloquently, he comes back on you and recurs unexpectedly when you hadn't been thinking of him.

But really, I think I like him mostly for his influence on his contemporaries and on later poets. Shelley, now, Shelley can make me cry.