I stood tip-toe upon a little hill, The air was sweet and warm, and the hazel-trees Were trailing all their blossoms with the breeze.

The sky was dark and grey and the wind did fill The day with parables like stories that tease And lead you on, and draw you to the sea.

I heard some larks go drifting from the clover, And the tangled birdsong falling from above, Adorning all the blossoms in sweet phrases That filled my heart with hope, and knew the love That the golden sun begets upon the brambles.

On every side the flowers bloomed and twined, The bees did hum and flicker in their flight, And from the garden came a scent so kind, A sweetness full and ripe and shining bright.

The way the sunbeam danced upon the river, And caressed the wavelets, glinting as they flowed, So touched my heart that I did stand, but quiver, As I watched the glories of the evening load. — I stood tip-toe upon a little hill

• John Keats