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25 Quotes for 'Autumn' in the Database.

Pages: 1 

 :: Topics »  Letter "A" »  Autumn Quotes
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.
Author: William Allingham
Source: Day and Night Songs--Autumnal Sonnet
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.
Author: William Blake
Source: To Autumn (st. 1)
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.
Author: Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Source: Aurora Leigh (bk. VII)
Autumn wins you best by this, its mute Appeal to sympathy for its decay.
Author: Robert Browning
Source: Paracelsus (sc. 1)
The melancholy days have come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sear.
Author: William Cullen Bryant
Source: The Death of the Flowers (l. 221)
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.
Author: William Cullen Bryant
Source: Third of November
All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn, Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn.
Author: Robert Burns
Source: Brigs of Ayr (l. 221)
The mellow autumn came, and with it came The promised party, to enjoy its sweets. The corn is cut, the manor full of game; The pointer ranges, and the sportsman beats In russet jacket;--lynx-like is his aim; Full grows his bag, and wonderful his feats. An, nutbrown partridges! An, brilliant pheasants! And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peasants.
Author: Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron)
Source: Don Juan (canto XIII, st. 75)
Yellow, mellow, ripened days, Sheltered in a golden coating; O'er the dreamy, listless haze, White and dainty cloudlets floating; Winking at the blushing trees, And the sombre, furrowed fallow; Smiling at the airy ease, Of the southward flying swallow Sweet and smiling are thy ways, Beauteous, golden Autumn days.
Author: Will Carleton
Source: Autumn Days
A breath, whence no man knows, Swaying the grating weeds, it blows; It comes, it grieves, it goes. Once it rocked the summer rose.
Author: John Vance Cheney
Source: Passing of Autumn
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.
Author: Dr. John Donne
Source: Elegy IX--The Autumnal
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.
Author: Richard Le Gallienne
Source: The Eternal Play
The Autumn is old; The sere leaves are flying; He hath gather'd up gold, And now he is dying;-- Old age, begin sighing!
Author: Thomas Hood
Source: Autumn
The year's in wane; There is nothing adorning; The night has no eve, And the day has no morning; Cold winter gives warning!
Author: Thomas Hood
Source: Autumn
I saw old Autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence, for no lonely bird would sing Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn, Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn;-- Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright With tangled gossamer that fell by night, Pearling his coronet of golden corn.
Author: Thomas Hood
Source: Ode--Autumn
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.
Author: John Keats
Source: To Autumn
It was Autumn, and incessant Piped the quails from shocks and sheaves, And, like living coals, the apples Burned among the withering leaves.
Author: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Source: Pegasus in Pound
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!
Author: James Russell Lowell
Source: An Indian Summer Reverie
Every season hath its pleasure; Spring may boast her flowery prime, Yet the vineyard's ruby treasuries Brighten Autumn's sob'rer time.
Author: Thomas Moore
Source: Spring and Autumn
Autumn Into earth's lap does throw Brown apples gay in a game of play, As the equinoctials blow.
Author: Dinah Maria Mulock (used pseudonym Mrs. Craik)
Source: October
Sorrow and the scarlet leaf, Sad thoughts and sunny weather; Ah me! this glory and this grief Agree not well together!
Author: Thomas W. Parsons
Source: A Song for September
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?
Author: Alexander Pope
Source: Pastorals--Autumn (l. 27)
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.
Author: Alexander Pope
Source: Pastorals--Autumn (last lines)
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.
Author: James Whitcomb Riley
Source: When the Frost is on the Punkin
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.
Author: Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Source: Autumn Idleness

Pages: 1 


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