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
From the last stanza of To Autumn by the beloved English romantic poet John Keats (1795 – 1821). Despite his hugely untimely death at aged 25, Keats is still considered one of the greatest ever poets. You can my other favourite lines from his Ode to a Nightingale poem here.
And miles to go before I sleep.
The closing lines of the poem Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening (1922) by the much loved poet Robert Frost. Written in an iambic tetrameter, it is Frost’s most famous poem, after The Road Not Taken. My thanks to the supremely talented Tosha Michelle for reminding me.
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Taken from the poem ‘He wishes for the cloths of Heaven’ by W.B. Yeats (1899)
