Wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being . . .—Percy Bysshe Shelley
No spring, nor summer beauty hath such grace As I have seen in one autumnal face; —John Donne (1572–1631) "Elegy IX: The Autumnal"
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The acrid scents of autumn, Reminiscent of slinking beasts, make me fear —D. H. Lawrence (1885–1930) "Dolor of Autumn," Amores (1916)
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Gold of a ripe oat straw, gold of a southwest moon, Canada thistle blue and flimmering larkspur blue, Tomatoes shining in the October sun with red hearts, —Carl Sandburg (1878–1967) "Cornhuskers," Falltime (1918) |
There is music in the meadows, in the air–
Autumn is here;
Skies are gray, but hearts are mellow,
—William Stanley Braithwaite, (1878–1962)
"A Lyric of Autumn," Lyrics of Life and Love (1904)
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Was it the ghost of autumn in that smell Of underground, or God's blank heart grown kind, That sent a happy dream to him in hell?— —Siegfried Sassoon (1886–1967) "Break of Day," Counter-Attack and Other Poems (1918) | Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; —John Keats (1795–1821) "CCLV Ode to Autumn," The Golden Treasury (1875) |
The morns are meeker than they were, The nuts are getting brown; The berry's cheek is plumper, The rose is out of town. —Emily Dickinson (1830–1886) "Nature XXVII, Autumn"
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Autumn hath all the summer's fruitful treasure; Gone is our sport, fled is poor Croydon's pleasure. —Thomas Nashe (1567–1601) "Summer's Last Will and Testament" (1660) | I saw old Autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence. —Thomas Hood (1799–1845) "Ode: Autumn" (1827) |
Crown'd with the sickle, and the wheaten sheaf,
While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain,
Comes jovial on.
—James Thomson (1700–1748) "Autumn" (1730)
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The long sobs Of the violins Of autumn Pierce my heart With monotonous languor. —Paul Verlaine (1844–1896) "Song of Autumn," Poèmes Saturniens (1866) | It's all a farce, –these tales they tell About the breezes sighing, And moans astir o'er field and dell, Because the year is dying. —Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872–1906) "Lyrics of a Lowly Life," (1896– ) Merry Autumn |
Listen! the wind is rising,
and the air is wild with leaves,
We have had our summer evenings,
now for October eves!
—Humbert Wolfe (1885–1940) "Autumn (Resignation)" (1926)
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