 And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o'er-brimmed...  Scenes of the Olden Time - Page 89by William Henry Davenport Adams - 1867 - 128 pagesFull view - About this book
 | Country life - 1873 - 160 pages
...bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store ? Sometimes,...Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind ; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath... | |
 | Carl R. Woodring, James Shapiro - Literary Criticism - 1995 - 936 pages
...bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, 10 For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes...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... | |
 | Willard Spiegelman - Literary Criticism - 1995 - 234 pages
...valediction poses, or reposes, a workergoddess, his ultimate and most sublime embodiment of indolence: Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes...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... | |
 | John Keats, Robert Gittings - Literary Collections - 1995 - 324 pages
...bees, 10 Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells. 2 Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes...may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, 15 Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drows'd with... | |
 | Keith D. White - Apollo (Greek deity) in literature - 1996 - 224 pages
...the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o'er-bnmm'd their clammy cells. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes...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... | |
 | Joan Bolker - Language Arts & Disciplines - 1997 - 292 pages
...change from "sound asleep in a half-reaped field / Dosed with red poppies, while thy reeping hook" to "Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep / Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook. " If Keats hadn't revised, we would have missed out on one of the best phrases in English poetry! 94... | |
 | William Harmon - Literary Collections - 1998 - 386 pages
...bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cells. II Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes...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... | |
 | Clara Calvo, Jean Jacques Weber - Literary Criticism - 1998 - 182 pages
...bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cells. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes...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... | |
 | John McRae - Language Arts & Disciplines - 1998 - 172 pages
...bees, 10 Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes...may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, 15 Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind, Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with... | |
 | Susan Fenimore Cooper - Nature - 1998 - 381 pages
...mellow fruitfulness! Close bosom friend of the maturing sun." He then asks, "Who has not often seen thee "... sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy...by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reaped furrow lain asleep, Drows'd with the fume of poppies; while thy hook Spares the next swathe, and all its twined... | |
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