Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, read more

Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch
Smokes in the sunthaw; whether the eve-drops fall,
Heard only in the trances of the blast,
Of if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
Quietly shining to the quiet moon.

Dew-drops are the gems of morning,
But the tears of mournful eve!

Dew-drops are the gems of morning,
But the tears of mournful eve!

Pity is best taught by fellowship in woe

Pity is best taught by fellowship in woe

Those holies of themselves a shape
As of an arbor took.

Those holies of themselves a shape
As of an arbor took.

Alas! they had been friends in youth;
But whispering tongues can poison truth,
And constancy lives in read more

Alas! they had been friends in youth;
But whispering tongues can poison truth,
And constancy lives in realms above;
And life is thorny, and youth is vain;
And to be wrothe with one we love
Doth work like madness in the brain.