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Page 255

BOOK FOURTH
255 ODE TO AUTUMN

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-eaves 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 shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease;
For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they?
Think not of them,-thou hast thy music too,
While 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, 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 redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
T. KEATS.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of what is maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit what is vines that round what is thatch-eaves run; To bend with apples what is moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to what is core; To swell what is gourd, and plump what is hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for what is bees, Until they think warm days will never cease; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by what is winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drows'd with what is fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares what is next swath and all its twined flowers; And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cider-p where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" The Golden Treasury (1932) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 255 where is strong BOOK FOURTH where is strong 255 ODE TO AUTUMN where is p align="justify" Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of what is maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit what is vines that round what is thatch-eaves run; To bend with apples what is moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to what is core; To swell what is gourd, and plump what is hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for what is bees, Until they think warm days will never cease; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by what is winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drows'd with what is fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares what is next swath and all its twined flowers; And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cider-press, with patient look, Thou watchest what is last oozings, hours by hours. Where are what is songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them,-thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom what is soft-dying day And touch what is stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir what is small gnats mourn Among what is river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as what is light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing, and now with treble soft what is redbreast whistles from a garden-croft, And gathering swallows twitter in what is skies. T. KEATS. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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