IN a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree,Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicity:The north cannot undo them,With a sleety whistle through them;Nor frozen thawings glue them From budding at the prime. In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook,Thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo's summer look;But with a sweet forgetting,They stay their crystal fretting,Never, never petting About the frozen time. Ah! would 'twere so with many A gentle girl and boy!But were there ever any Writhed not at passed joy?To know the change and feel it,When there is none to heal it,Nor numbed sense to steal it, Was never said in rhyme.

The work and its creator

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Creator: John Keats
Nationality / cultural background: English
Work / edition: Before 1821

Historical public-domain poem. Verse and line breaks retained.

In the source: Stanzas

Selected for the Brief on 8 Oct 2026. This date records our selection, rather than when the work was created.