"Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul."
"Give me books, fruit, French wine and fine weather and a little music out of doors, played by someone I do not know. I admire lolling on a lawn by a water-lilied pond to eat white currants and see goldfish: and go to the fair in the evening if I'm good. There is not hope for that -one is sure to get into some mess before evening."
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Source: 'To Autumn' (1820) st. 3
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