The Human Seasons

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

March 13, 1818 J. Keats

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Whoever see how the soul dwells within the body let him observe how this body uses its daily home, for if this is without order and confused the body will be kept in disorder and confusion by its soul.

— Leonardo Da Vinci