Poem by John Keats

What the Thrush Said

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 Phœbus 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.

1. Song Written on a Blank Page in Beaumont and Fletcher's Works between 'Cupid's Revenge' and 'The Two Noble Kinsmen'
2. Song (“I had a dove and the sweet dove died”)
3. Fragment of an Ode to Maia
4. A Spenserian Stanza
5. Sweet, Sweet Is the Greeting of Eyes

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