Print

Print


On the Grasshopper and Cricket

BY JOHN KEATS <https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/john-keats>

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.


—-


“where the sun beats, / And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no
relief”


—-


Wonder if Eliot drew on Keats for a contrast.


And sorry for misquoting that line about grasshopper. Was writing from
memory only.


CR



On Wed, Aug 1, 2018 at 9:49 AM Chanan Mittal <[log in to unmask]> wrote:

> Eliot with a bit of Shakespeare
>
>
> The air is thoroughly small and dry ...
>
>
> The grasshopper is a burden ...
>
>
> There is not enough silence here ...
>
>
> Hamlet: To be or not to be ...
>
>
> Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
> Teach us to care and not to care
> Teach us to sit still
> Even among these rocks,
> Our peace in His will
>
>
> —
>
>
> CR
>
>
>
>