Seasons

There was a young fellow named Hall,
Who fell in the spring in the fall;
    'Twould have been a sad thing
    If he'd died in the spring,
But he didn't - he died in the fall.

Unknown

The identity of this poet is not known. Their works, which are often of significant historical or cultural value, have been attributed to 'Unknown'. This designation is commonly used when the creator of works, ranging from ancient texts to more modern writings, remains anonymous or uncredited. Despite the lack of personal details, the impact and importance of these works endure, offering insight into the eras and cultures from which they originated.

Unknown

Recipe For The Musical Comedy Composer:

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. CCCLXXI. Paradoxes.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. CCCCLXXII. Love And Matrimony.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. CCCLXV. Paradoxes.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

A Song of Autumn

My wind is turned to bitter north,
That was so soft a south before;
My sky, that shone so sunny bright,
With foggy gloom is clouded oer
My gay green leaves are yellow-black,
Upon the dank autumnal floor;
For love, departed once, comes back
No more again, no more.
A roofless ruin lies my home,
For winds to blow and rains to pour;
One frosty night befell, and lo,
I find my summer days are oer:
The heart bereaved, of why and how
Unknowing, knows that yet before
It had what een to Memory now
Returns no more, no more.

Arthur Hugh Clough

Autumn

The year grows still again, the surging wake
Of full-sailed summer folds its furrows up,
As after passing of an argosy
Old Silence settles back upon the sea,
And ocean grows as placid as a cup.
Spring, the young morn, and Summer, the strong noon,
Have dreamed and done and died for Autumn's sake:
Autumn that finds not for a loss so dear
Solace in stack and garner hers too soon -
Autumn, the faithful widow of the year.

Autumn, a poet once so full of song,
Wise in all rhymes of blossom and of bud,
Hath lost the early magic of his tongue,
And hath no passion in his failing blood.
Hear ye no sound of sobbing in the air?
'Tis his. Low bending in a secret lane,
Late blooms of second childhood in his hair,
He tries old magic, like a dotard mage;
Tries ...

Richard Le Gallienne

Autumn.

Autumn, thy rushing blast
    Sweeps in wild eddies by,
Whirling the sear leaves past,
    Beneath my feet, to die.
Nature her requiem sings
    In many a plaintive tone,
As to the wind she flings
    Sad music, all her own.

The murmur of the rill
    Is hoarse and sullen now,
And the voice of joy is still
    In grove and leafy bough.
There's not a single wreath,
    Of all Spring's thousand flowers,
To strew her bier in death,
    Or deck her faded bowers.

I hear a spirit sigh
    Where the meeting pines resound,
Which tells me all must die,
    As the leaf dies on the ground.
The brightest hopes we cherish,
    Which own a mortal trust,
But bloom awhile to perish
    And moulder in the dust.

Sweep on...

Susanna Moodie

Spring

In the spring the housemaid's fancy
    Lightly turns from pot and pan
To the greater necromancy
    Of a young unmarried man.
You can hold her through the winter,
    And she'll work around and sing,
But it's just as good as certain
    She will marry in the spring.

Unknown

An Autumn Day

Leaden skies and a lonesome shadow
    Where summer has passed with her gorgeous train;
Snow on the mountain, and frost on the meadow -
    A white face pressed to the window pane;
A cold mist falling, a bleak wind calling,
    And oh! but life seems vain.

Rain is better than golden weather,
    When the heart is dulled with a dumb despair.
Dead leaves lie where they walked together,
    The hammock is gone, and the rustic chair.
Let bleak snows cover the whole world over -
    It will never again seem fair.

Time laughs lightly at youth's sad 'Never,'
    Summer shall come again, smiling once more,
High o'er the cold world the sun shines for ever,
    Hearts that seemed dead are alive at the core.
Oh, but the pain of it -oh, but the gain of it,

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The Seasons

SPRING

        Spring time is here with its sunshine and showers,
        All nature is waking from its long winter sleep.
        The gardens are blooming with beautiful flowers,
        The song-birds are carolling melodies sweet.


SUMMER

        The summer comes with glaring heat,
        And we will have vacation;
        We pack our grips for the seashore trips,
        Or other recreation.


AUTUMN

        The harvest moon is shining bright,
        The leaves are falling everywhere;
        How glorious is the autumn night,
        How cool and bracing is the air.


WINTER

        Jack frost is stalking through the land,
        The ground is covered white, with snow.
        We like to si...

Alan L. Strang