“The seasonal urge is strong in poets. Milton wrote chiefly in winter.
Keats looked for spring to wake him up (as it did in the miraculous
months of April and May, 1819). Burns chose autumn. Longfellow liked the
month of September. Shelley flourished in the hot months. Some poets,
like Wordsworth, have gone outdoors to work. Others, like Auden, keep to
the curtained room. Schiller needed the smell of rotten apples about
him to make a poem. Tennyson and Walter de la Mare had to smoke. Auden
drinks lots of tea, Spender coffee; Hart Crane drank alcohol. Pope,
Byron, and William Morris were creative late at night. And so it goes.”
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