To Autumn by John Keats. Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel [...]
Dear March—Come in—How glad I am—I hoped for you before—Put down your Hat—You must have walked—How out of Breath you are—Dear March, how are you, and the Rest—Did you leave Nature well—Oh March, Come right upstairs with me—I have so much to tell— I got your Letter, and the Birds—The Maples never knew that you [...]
The birds have been singing to-dayAnd saying: "The spring is near!The sun is as warm as in May,And the deep blue heavens are clear." The little bird on the boughsOf the sombre snow-laden pineThinks: "Where shall I build me my house,And how shall I make it fine? "For the season of snow is past;The mild [...]
Sound the flute!Now it's mute!Birds delight,Day and night,Nightingale,In the dale,Lark in sky, -Merrily,Merrily, merrily to welcome in the year. Little boy,Full of joy;Little girl,Sweet and small;Cock does crow,So do you;Merry voice,Infant noise;Merrily, merrily to welcome in the year. Little lamb,Here I am;Come and lickMy white neck;Let me pullYour soft wool;Let me kissYour soft face;Merrily, merrily [...]
Winter is the king of showmen,Turning tree stumps into snow menAnd houses into birthday cakesAnd spreading sugar over lakes.Smooth and clean and frosty white,The world looks good enough to bite.That's the season to be young,Catching snowflakes on your tongue!Snow is snowy when it's snowing.I'm sorry it's slushy when it's going. Ogden Nash.
Hope is the thing with feathersThat perches in the soul,And sings the tune without the words,And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard;And sore must be the stormThat could abash the little birdThat kept so many warm. I've heard it in the chillest land,And on the strangest sea;Yet, never, in extremity,It [...]
The night is darkening round me,The wild winds coldly blow;But a tyrant spell has bound me,And I cannot, cannot go. The giant trees are bendingTheir bare boughs weighed with snow;The storm is fast descending,And yet I cannot go. Clouds beyond clouds above me,Wastes beyond wastes below;But nothing drear can move me;I will not, cannot go. [...]
One of the most famous poems of Spring from the gorgeous Lake District. Image from Canva. I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud. I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, [...]
To Daffodils Fair daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon; As yet the early-rising sun Has not attain’d his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the evensong; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as [...]
On a Lane in Spring. A Little Lane, the brook runs close besideAnd spangles in the sunshine while the fish glide swiftly byAnd hedges leafing with the green spring tideFrom out their greenery the old birds flyAnd chirp and whistle in the morning sunThe pilewort glitters ‘neath the pale blue skyThe little robin has [...]
Foxglove and Bee 