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.

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.

This sunlight shames November where he grieves
In dead red leaves, and will not let him shun
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This sunlight shames November where he grieves
In dead red leaves, and will not let him shun
The day, though bough with bough be overrun.
But with a blessing every glade receives
High salutation.

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.

Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods,
And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt,
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Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods,
And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt,
And night by night the monitory blast
Wails in the key-hole, telling how it pass'd
O'er empty fields, or upland solitudes,
Or grim wide wave; and now the power is felt
Of melancholy, tenderer in its moods
Than any joy indulgent Summer dealt.

Autumn wins you best by this, its mute
Appeal to sympathy for its decay.

Autumn wins you best by this, its mute
Appeal to sympathy for its decay.

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.

It was Autumn, and incessant
Piped the quails from shocks and sheaves,
And, like living coals, the read more

It was Autumn, and incessant
Piped the quails from shocks and sheaves,
And, like living coals, the apples
Burned among the withering leaves.

Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson,
Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green.
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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.