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Wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being . . .—Percy Bysshe Shelley

No spring, nor summer beauty hath such graceAs I have seen in one autumnal face;

—John Donne (1572–1631) “Elegy IX: The Autumnal”

 

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No spring, nor summer beauty hath such graceAs I have seen in one autumnal face;

The acrid scents of autumn,Reminiscent of slinking beasts, make me fear —D. H. Lawrence (1885–1930) “Dolor of Autumn,” Amores (1916)

The acrid scents of autumn,Reminiscent of slinking beasts, make me fear —D. H. Lawrence (1885–1930) “Dolor of Autumn,” Amores (1916)

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)

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)

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)

Was it the ghost of autumn in that smellOf 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)

Was it the ghost of autumn in that smellOf 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)

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”

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”

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)

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 mornStand shadowless like silence, listeningTo silence. —Thomas Hood (1799–1845) “Ode: Autumn” (1827)

I saw old Autumn in the misty mornStand shadowless like silence, listeningTo 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))

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))

The long sobsOf the violinsOf autumnPierce my heartWith monotonous languor. —Paul Verlaine (1844–1896) “Song of Autumn,” Poèmes Saturniens (1866)

The long sobsOf the violinsOf autumnPierce my heartWith monotonous languor. —Paul Verlaine (1844–1896) “Song of Autumn,” Poèmes Saturniens (1866)

It’s all a farce, –these tales they tellAbout 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

It’s all a farce, –these tales they tellAbout 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)

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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Poetry Month | Notable Poets

  • Poetry Month | Notable Poets

TrendingHere are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.

Did Birds Evolve from Dinosaurs?

The Twelve Dancing Princesses

Current Events This Week: January 2023

African Americans by the Numbers

Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents

The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales

TrendingHere are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.

Did Birds Evolve from Dinosaurs?

The Twelve Dancing Princesses

Current Events This Week: January 2023

African Americans by the Numbers

Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents

The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales

  • Did Birds Evolve from Dinosaurs?
  • The Twelve Dancing Princesses
  • Current Events This Week: January 2023
  • African Americans by the Numbers
  • Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents
  • The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales