"The miracle is not to fly in the air, nor to walk on the water, but to walk on the earth." (Chinese Proverb)
Friday, December 12, 2008
Poetry Friday: Oh, Why Not Some John Keats?
Every once in awhile, I'm just in the mood for Keats:
On the Grasshopper and 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 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.