Never Dead, Never Ceasing

The poetry of earth is never dead . . .

Happy 221st Birthday John Keats: born on Halloween 1795
Gone too soon: February 23, 1821
"The Grave of Keats" ~ by Walter Crane
At the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford University, England

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.
~Keats

And here's another little autumnal insect, to go along
with the Grasshopper and the Cricket . . .
the Ladybug!

Thanks to Carmen & Sacred Mists

Further reading for the three - day season of
ALLHALLOWTIDE
From Catholic & Protestant Perspectives