Twice a week the winter thorough Here stood I to keep the goal: Football then was fighting sorrow For the young man’s soul. . Now in Maytime to the wicket Out I march with bat and pad: See the son of grief at cricket Trying to be glad. . Try I will; no harm in […]
To Autumn Season of Mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit that round the thatched-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 plump the hazel […]
