Fall, Leaves, Fall

By Emily Bronte

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night’s decay

Sundown

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The summer sun is sinking low;
Only the tree-tops redden and glow:
Only the weathercock on the spire
Of the neighboring church is a flame of fire;
      All is in shadow below.

O beautiful, awful summer day,
What hast thou given, what taken away?
Life and death, and love and hate,
Homes made happy or desolate,
      Hearts made sad or gay!

On the road of life one mile-stone more!
In the book of life one leaf turned o’er!
Like a red seal is the setting sun
On the good and the evil men have done,–
     Naught can to-day restore!

Spring

By John Clare

What charms does Nature at the spring put on,
When hedges unperceived get stain’d in green;
When even moss, that gathers on the stone,
Crown’d with its little knobs of flowers is seen;
And every road and lane, through field and glen,
Triumphant boasts a garden of its own.
In spite of nipping sheep, and hungry cow,
The little daisy finds a place to blow:
And where old Winter leaves her splashy slough,
The lady-smocks will not disdain to grow;
And dandelions like to suns will bloom,
Aside some bank or hillock creeping low;–
Though each too often meets a hasty doom
From trampling clowns, who heed not where they go

The Snow-Blossoms

By Clark Ashton Smith

But yestereve the winter trees
Reared leafless, blackly bare,
Their twigs and branches poignant-marked
Upon the sunset-flare.

White-petaled, opens now the dawn,
And in its pallid glow,
Revealed, each leaf-lorn, barren tree
Stands white with flowers of snow.