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[Ô´´]Seasons in life
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À´ÕâÀïËÆºõÓ¦¸Ã½²Ó¢Ó¶øÎÒÓÖʵÔÚ²»ÖªµÀ¸ÃÓÃÎÒÉúɬµÄÓ¢Óï±í´ïЩʲô£¬ÄÇô¾Í°ÑÕâÊ«Ë͸øÂ¥Ö÷ºÃÁË¡£A sonnet,[I]The Human Seasons[/I],by [I]John Keats[/I]:
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 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.