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- 1816
- ON THE GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET
- by John Keats
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- 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 Grasshopper's- 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 Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever,
- And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
- The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills.
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- THE END
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