• On the Grasshopper and Cricket by John Keats

    John Keats, one of Pennyroyal's favorite poets
    On the Grasshopper and Cricket
    The poetry of earth is never dead:
      When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
      And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
    From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
    That is the Grasshopper's—he takes the lead
      In summer luxury,—he has never done
      With his delights; for when tired out with fun
    He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
    The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
      On a lone winter evening, when the frost
        Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
    The Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever,
      And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
        The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills.
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