Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.
Then summer fades and passes and October comes. We'll smell smoke then, and feel an unexpected sharpness, a thrill of nervousness, swift elation, a sense of sadness and departure.
We are reformers in the spring and summer, but in autumn we stand by the old. Reformers in the morning, and conservers at night.
Lo! sweeten'd with the summer light, The full-juiced apple, waxing over-mellow, Drops in a silent autumn night. All its allotted length of days The flower ripens in its place, Ripens and fades, and falls, and hath no toil, Fast-rooted in the fruitful soil.
There is no season such delight can bring, as summer, autumn, winter and the spring.
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.
Summer makes me drowsy. Autumn makes me sing. Winter's pretty lousy, but I hate Spring.
The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly changes from the summer cottons into its winter woods.
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-eves run; To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
Summer's lease hath all too short a date.
By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer's best of weather And autumn's best of cheer.
Listen! the wind is rising, and the air is wild with leaves, we have had our summer evenings, now for October eves!
Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night.
Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence.
The foliage has been losing its freshness through the month of August, and here and there a yellow leaf shows itself like the first gray hair amidst the locks of a beauty who has seen one season too many.
Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.
The falling leaves drift by the window The autumn leaves of red and gold.... I see your lips, the summer kisses The sunburned hands, I used to hold Since you went away, the days grow long And soon I'll hear ol' winter's song. But I miss you most of all my darling, When autumn leaves start to fall.
Autumn burned brightly, a running flame through the mountains, a torch flung to the trees.
No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.
Autumn is the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers we more than gain in fruits.
There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!
There ought to be gardens for all months in the year, in which, severally, things of beauty may be then in season.
There is a harmony In autumn, and a luster in its sky...
I trust in nature for the stable laws of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant and autumn garner to the end of time.
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