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Drag and drop the lines of the poem in the correct order:
Answer variants:
'Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
That for themselves a cooling covert make
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
That for themselves a cooling covert make
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
-- John Keats
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