| [00:06.47] |
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness |
| [00:09.15] |
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun |
| [00:13.50] |
Conspiring with him how to load and bless |
| [00:15.78] |
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run; |
| [00:19.83] |
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, |
| [00:22.71] |
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; |
| [00:26.40] |
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells |
| [00:28.88] |
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, |
| [00:32.43] |
And still more, later flowers for the bees, |
| [00:35.32] |
Until they think warm days will never cease, |
| [00:38.46] |
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells. |
| [00:42.00] |
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? |
| [00:47.61] |
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find |
| [00:49.83] |
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, |
| [00:52.93] |
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; |
| [00:56.33] |
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, |
| [01:03.11] |
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook |
| [01:08.48] |
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers: |
| [01:09.19] |
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep |
| [01:10.81] |
Steady thy laden head across a brook; |
| [01:15.48] |
Or by a cider-press, with patient look, |
| [01:21.66] |
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours. |
| [01:25.65] |
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? |
| [01:26.81] |
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,- |
| [01:31.07] |
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, |
| [01:35.31] |
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; |
| [01:38.61] |
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn |
| [01:42.46] |
Among the river sallows, borne aloft |
| [01:43.83] |
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; |
| [01:47.68] |
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; |
| [01:52.04] |
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft |
| [01:56.09] |
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft; |
| [01:59.68] |
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies. |
