1. compare and contrast john keats’s “to autumn” and susan hartley swett’s “july.” in your response, make sure you include the answers to the following questions:

• how does each poem depict its respective season?

• what type of imagery and language does each poet use?

• how do the images and language relate to the themes of the poems?

• how do the literary devices of personification and the use of the refrain affect each poem?

this is the autumn poem-

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 with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,

and fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

to swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

with a sweet kernel; to set budding more,

and still more, later flowers for the bees,

until they think warm days will never cease,

for summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?

sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find

thee sitting careless on a granary floor,

thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;

or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,

drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook

spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:

and sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep

steady thy laden head across a brook;

or by a cyder-press, with patient look,

thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

where are the songs of spring? ay, where are they?

think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—

while barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,

and touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;

then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn

among the river sallows, borne aloft

or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;

and full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;

hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft

the red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;

and gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

this is the july poem-

when the scarlet cardinal tells

her dream to the dragonfly,

and the lazy breeze makes a nest in the trees,

and murmurs a lullaby,

it's july.

when the tangled cobweb pulls

the cornflower's cap awry,

and the lilies tall lean over the wall

to bow to the butterfly,

it's july.

when the heat like a mist veil floats,

and poppies flame in the rye,

and the silver note in the streamlet's throat

has softened almost to a sigh,

it's july.

when the hours are so still that time

forgets them, and lets them lie

underneath petals pink till the night stars wink

at the sunset in the sky,

it's july.

i need 3 well developed paragraphs, i'm offering a lot of points to anyone who can answer i don't have time to do them and the due date is tomorrow so im begging