Four Seasons fill the measure of the year; br There are four seasons in the mind of man: br He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear br Takes in all beauty with an easy span: br He has his Summer, when luxuriously br Spring's honied cud of youthful thought he loves br To ruminate, and by such dreaming high br Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves br His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings br He furleth close; contented so to look br On mists in idleness-to let fair things br Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook. br He has his Winter too of pale misfeature, br Or else he would forego his mortal nature.