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O, it sets my heart a clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,
When the frost is on the read more
O, it sets my heart a clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.
No spring, nor summer beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one autumnal face;
Young read more
No spring, nor summer beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one autumnal face;
Young beauties force our love, and that's a rape;
This doth but counsel, yet you cannot scape.
All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn,
Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn.
All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn,
Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn.
What visionary tints the year puts on,
When falling leaves falter through motionless air
Or numbly cling read more
What visionary tints the year puts on,
When falling leaves falter through motionless air
Or numbly cling and shiver to be gone!
How shimmer the low flats and pastures bare,
As with her nectar Hebe Autumn fills
The bowl between me and those distant hills,
And smiles and shakes abroad her misty, tremulous hair!
Thus sung the shepherds till th' approach of night,
The skies yet blushing with departing light,
When read more
Thus sung the shepherds till th' approach of night,
The skies yet blushing with departing light,
When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade,
And the low sun had lengthened every shade.
Ye flowers that drop, forsaken by the spring,
Ye birds that, left by summer, cease to sing,
read more
Ye flowers that drop, forsaken by the spring,
Ye birds that, left by summer, cease to sing,
Ye trees that fade, when Autumn heats remove,
Say, is not absence death to those who love?
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to read more
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-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core.
Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson,
Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green.
read more
Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson,
Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green.
Such a kindly autumn, so mercifully dealing
With the growths of summer, I never yet have seen.
Third act of the eternal play!
In poster-like emblazonries
"Autumn once more begins today"--
read more
Third act of the eternal play!
In poster-like emblazonries
"Autumn once more begins today"--
'Tis written all across the trees
In yellow like Chinese.