John Keats: No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But wh

No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one lig — John Keats

No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.

John Keats

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