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On the fairest time in June
Gone, the merry morris din;
So it is ; yet let us sing Honour to the old bow-string! Honour to the bugle-horn! Honour to the woods unshorn ! Honour to the Lincoln green ! Honour to the archer keen ! Honour to tight little John, And the horse he rode upon ! Honour to bold Robin Hood, Sleeping in the underwood ! Honour to Maid Marian, And to all the Sherwood clan ! Though their days have hurried by, Let us two a burden try.
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 swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
For Summer has o'er-brimm'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, Drowsed 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 ;
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, 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, born 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
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
ODE ON MELANCHOLY.
No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist
Wolf's-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine ; Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss'd
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine ;
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.
But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud ;
Or on the wealth of globed peonies ;
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.