John WilliamBLACKWELL12.09.46 - 03.09.18 (Blackie) 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 thought he loves To ruminate, and by such dreaming high Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves His soul has in 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. - Keats Happy Birthday, we still celebrate it every year. Love from Carol, Joanne and Jody; Jake, Zoe and Sam; Jesse.
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