The Human Seasons

Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;
There are four seasons in the mind of man:
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
Takes in all beauty with an easy span:
He has his Summer, when luxuriously
Spring's honied cud of youthful thought he loves
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high
Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves
His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness--to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,
Or else he would forego his mortal nature.

by John Keats

Comments (3)

You leave us with more than one thought Michael. I love the girdle around the world. The world is growing and bulging at the edges, but we are here together and it is so beautiful indeed. So much talk and reflection on Love makes it all the more beautiful. GS
Very well've hit the spot Michael. I love this (there's that word again!)
humm bah humbug! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ''..........this is were snoopy is on the dog house...................Ok you said whats right its a good thought good write