Explore "A Spring Poem from Bion" by Eugene Field on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
One asketh: / "Tell me, Myrson, tell me true: / What's the season pleaseth you? / Is it summer suits you best, / When from harvest toil we rest? / Is it autumn with its glory / Of all surfeited desires? / Is it winter, when with story / And with song we hug our fires? / Or is spring most fair to you -- / Come, good Myrson, tell me true!"
Another answereth: / "What the gods in wisdom send / We should question not, my friend; / Yet, since you entreat of me, / I will answer reverently: / Me the summertime displeases, / For its sun is scorching hot; / Autumn brings such dire diseases / That perforce I like it not; / As for biting winter, oh! / How I hate its ice and snow!