What the klarlaug speaks is plain to all: The sweetest sounds the heavens can entertain, And when the trees cast off their summer green, And yield what is so near to one’s hearing.

The gentleness of air flows there, And, lisping with greenness and growing cool, Refresh, soothe, calm, as gentle breezes flush All the plants, and each leaf and each petal,

As it weaves through the flowers and gardens, Like a child growing, as they lean and sway. As pure and holy and bright as a rainy thaw, What pebbly paths they lead to a cool gully.

The lilacs still sway; the blush, as they seem, In the cool distance, spreads lilacs away, Yet from fields of roses one fragrance mends, And scents like love fill the dreams each bleeds. — What the klarlaug speaks

• John Keats