Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/166

2.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?

⁠Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
⁠Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
⁠Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
⁠Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
⁠Steady thy laden head across a brook;20
⁠Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
⁠Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

3.

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;