brook

the archivist November 14, 2024

To Autumn John Keats (1795–1821) Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,   Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless   With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,   And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;     To swell the gourd, and […]

the archivist April 24, 2006

Song of the Brook Alfred, Lord Tennyson From “The Brook: an Idyl” I COME from haunts of coot and hern: I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, 5 Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And […]