...head across a brook ; Or by a cider-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozmgs, hours by hours. Where are the songs of Spring ? Ay, where are...borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies ; ODE ON MELANCHOLY. No, no ! go not to Lethe, neither twist Wolf's-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous...

...head across a brook; Or by a cyder-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings hours bv hours. "Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are...aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft ON RECEIVING...

...brook; Or by a cyder-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings hours bv hours. "VVnere are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they'? Think...aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft ON RECEIVING...

...the soft-dying day, uch the stubble plains with rosy hue : Then, in a wailful choir, the small knats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft, Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies ; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn ; Hedge-crickets sing; and now, with treble soft, The...

...Wordsworth, from Scott or Byron or Lord Tennyson. But do we really get it much more clearly from Keats ? Where are the songs of Spring ? Ay, where are they...in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river-sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies ; And full-grown lambs loud bleat...

...under ground, and changes to a chrysalis, appearing next year as a perfect insect. A poet says : — "Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?...barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue ; Then, in a wailful choir, the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows,...

...Through the old garden-ground of boyish days. And then I shut her wild, wild eyes With kisses four; Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?...barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows,...

...head across a brook ; Or by a cider-press with patient look, Thou watchcst the last oozings, hours by d then it left me free. Since then, at an uncertain...agony returns ; And till my ghastly tale is told, loft dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue ; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats...

...Drowsed with the fume of poppies. while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers: Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?...hast thy music too — While barred clouds bloom the softlydying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue. Few more perfect poems exist in the English...

...across a brook ; Or by a cider-press with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hour». ow flows between. But neither heat, nor frost, nor...away, I ween, The marks of that which once hath be soft dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue ; Then in a wailful choir the «mall gnats...