The Human Seasons

John Keats(1795–1821)

The complete poetical works and letters of John Keats, 1818

Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;There are four seasons in the mind of man:He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clearTakes in all beauty with an easy span:He has his Summer, when luxuriouslySpring's honied cud of youthful thought he lovesTo ruminate, and by such dreaming highIs nearest unto heaven: quiet covesHis soul has in its Autumn, when his wingsHe furleth close; contented so to lookOn mists in idleness—to let fair thingsPass by unheeded as a threshold brook.He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,Or else he would forego his mortal nature.

From The complete poetical works and letters of John Keats (1818), via the English Wikisource transcription.

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