...later flowers for the 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...whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary-floor, Thy hair soft lifted by the winnowing wind ; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,...

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...later flowers for the 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...whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless or. a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind ; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound...

...bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy celli. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store ? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee silling careless on a granary floor, Thy hair sofi-lified by the winnowing wind ; Or on a Imlf-rcap'd...

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...general the mere expression of intense " sensnons" enjoyment of natnral beanty.3 FROM " ODE TO ACTUMN. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store ? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting eareless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind ; Or on a half-reap'd fnrrow...

...core ; To swell the gourd, and plump the Imzel shells With a sweet kernel ; to set budding more, i hath not seen thee oft amid thy store • Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting cardess on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the wianowing wind ; • Or in a half-reaped furrow...

...later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For summer has e'er-brimmed village, dome and farm, Each gire ! Sunn-time1*, whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted...

...budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cells. Who...Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind ; Or in a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath,...

...later flower for the 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...sitting, careless, on a granary floor, — Thy hair soft lifted by the winnowing wind : Or , on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume...