Poetry at the Post: When A Neighbor Brings You Peonies, Think of Keats…

Ode on Melancholy
BY JOHN KEATS

But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
Or on the wealth of globed peonies;