John Keats

(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821 / London, England)

The Human Seasons - Poem by John Keats


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.


Comments about The Human Seasons by John Keats

  • Brian Jani (5/13/2014 1:05:00 PM)


    What an interesting poem john Keats. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: spring, autumn, winter, summer, nature, beauty, heaven, dream



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002



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