Autumn
Into earth's lap does throw
Brown apples gay in a game of play,
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Autumn
Into earth's lap does throw
Brown apples gay in a game of play,
As the equinoctials blow.

The melancholy days have come, the saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown read more

The melancholy days have come, the saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sear.

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
And only he who sees takes read more

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
And only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

The Autumn is old;
The sere leaves are flying;
He hath gather'd up gold,
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The Autumn is old;
The sere leaves are flying;
He hath gather'd up gold,
And now he is dying;--
Old age, begin sighing!

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.

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
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O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou mayest rest
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

Third act of the eternal play!
In poster-like emblazonries
"Autumn once more begins today"--
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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.

Ye flowers that drop, forsaken by the spring,
Ye birds that, left by summer, cease to sing,
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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?

Every season hath its pleasure;
Spring may boast her flowery prime,
Yet the vineyard's ruby treasuries
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Every season hath its pleasure;
Spring may boast her flowery prime,
Yet the vineyard's ruby treasuries
Brighten Autumn's sob'rer time.