Here you will find the Poem When Life Is But A Round Of Crushing Care of poet Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
When life is but a round of crushing care And, a great heap of stones, lies heavy on us, There suddenly, God knows how, why, upon us A joyous mood descends... Of balmy air A breath comes from the past and, o'er us drifting, Invades the heart, its fearful burden lifting. At times with autumn's coming is it so, When empty lie the fields, when bare the groves are, And paler turn the skies - and of a sudden, over The darkened earth a damp wind starts to blow. A fallen leaf it chases with elation And to our hearts of spring brings a sensation.