THE HUMAN SEASONS by John Keats (1795-1821)

THE  HUMAN  SEASONS   by  John Keats (1795-1821) 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.