                                      1816
                 O THOU WHOSE FACE HATH FELT THE WINTER'S WIND
                                 by John Keats

        O thou whose face hath felt the Winter's wind,
          Whose eye has seen the snow-clouds hung in mist
          And the black elm tops 'mong the freezing stars,
          To thee the spring will be a harvest-time.
        O thou, whose only book has been the light
          Of supreme darkness which thou feddest on
          Night after night when Phoebus was away,
          To thee the Spring shall be a triple morn.
        O fret not after knowledge- I have none,
          And yet my song comes native with the warmth.
        O fret not after knowledge- I have none,
          And yet the Evening listens. He who saddens
        At thought of idleness cannot be idle,
        And he's awake who thinks himself asleep.


                        THE END
