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Read by Nicole Ansari-Cox
Philip Larkin Lambs that learn to walk in snow When their bleating clouds the air Meet a vast unwelcome, know Nothing but a sunless glare. Newly stumbling to and fro…
Read by Joely Richardson & Monica Dolan
Emily Dickinson A narrow Fellow in the Grass Occasionally rides – You may have met him? Did you not His notice instant is – The Grass divides as with a…
Read by Tim McInnerny
D.H. Lawrence A snake came to my water-trough On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat, To drink there. In the deep, strange-scented shade of the…
Read by Joely Richardson
Emily Bronte The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow; But a tyrant spell has bound me And I cannot, cannot go. The giant trees are bending…
Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man’s ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude. Heigh-ho!…
John Keats Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend…
Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away; Lengthen night and shorten day; Every leaf speaks bliss to me Fluttering from the autumn tree. I shall smile when wreaths of snow Blossom…
Read by Brian Cox
Alfred Tennyson ‘Summer is coming, summer is coming. I know it, I know it, I know it. Light again, leaf again, life again, love again,’ Yes, my wild little Poet….
Anonymous Summer has arrived, Loudly sing, cuckoo! The seed is growing And the meadow is blooming, And the wood is coming into leaf now, Sing, cuckoo! The ewe is bleating…
Robert Herrick Get up, get up for shame, the Blooming Morne Upon her wings presents the god unshorne. See how Aurora throwes her faire Fresh-quilted colours through the aire: …
Charlotte Mew I so liked Spring last year Because you were here; – The thrushes too – Because it was these you so liked to hear – I so liked…
Geoffrey Chaucer Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote, The droghte of March hath perced to the roote, And bathed every veyne in swich licóur Of which vertú engendred is…