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, 1816
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John Keats 1795 1821
Sonnet (XIII),
On the Grasshopper & Cricket
The poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint, with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead
That is the Grasshoppers. He takes the lead
In summer luxury; he has never done
With his delights, for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
The Crickets song, in warmth increasing ever,
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
The Grasshoppers among some grassy hills.
1816
, 1816
;
,
,
.
;
, ,
:
,
;
,
, .
John Keats 1795 1821
Sonnet (XIII),
On the Grasshopper & Cricket
The poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint, with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead
That is the Grasshoppers. He takes the lead
In summer luxury; he has never done
With his delights, for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
The Crickets song, in warmth increasing ever,
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
The Grasshoppers among some grassy hills.
1816
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