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Where Are the Songs of Spring?
by
John Keats
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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, borne 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 The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft; And gathering swallows twitter in the skies
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