W.B. Yeats' Sailing to Byzantium

And therefore I have sailed the seas...

That is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
— Those dying generations — at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,

Of Philip Levine and The Water's Chant

A clear mountain stream in the High Sierras.

Seven years ago I went into
the High Sierras stunned by the desire
to die. For hours I stared into a clear
mountain stream that fell down
over speckled rocks, and then I
closed my eyes and prayed that when
I opened them I would be gone

Hannah Rodrigues On Keeping Warm in Winter

Baby, it's cold outside.

It all started
on the 11th of November...
when you have to keep warm
for the winter hibernation.