The Seasons of Love.

The spring-time of love
    Is both happy and gay,
For joy sprinkles blossoms
    And balm in our way;
The sky, earth, and ocean,
    In beauty repose,
And all the bright future
    Is COLEUR DE ROSE.

The summer of love
    Is the bloom of the heart,
When hill, grove, and valley,
    Their music impart;
And the pure glow of heaven
    Is seen in fond eyes,
As lakes show the rainbow
    That's hung in the skies.

The autumn of love
    Is the season of cheer--
Life's mild Indian summer,
    The smile of the year!
Which comes when the golden
    Ripe harvest is stored,
And yields its own blessings--
    Repose and reward.

The winter of love
    Is the beam that we win
While the storm scowls without,
    From the sunshine within.
Love's reign is eternal--
    The heart is his throne,
And he has all seasons
    Of life for his own.

George Pope Morris

George Pope Morris was an American editor, poet, and songwriter. Born on October 10, 1802, he made significant contributions to American literature and music. Morris co-founded and edited the New York Evening Mirror, where he published works by Edgar Allan Poe and others. He is perhaps best known for his song "Woodman, Spare That Tree!" and his role in the early 19th-century literary scene. Morris died on July 6, 1864, leaving behind a legacy of editorial and creative work that influenced many American writers and musicians.

George Pope Morris

Tis Now the Promised Hour. A Serenade.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

Thank God for Pleasant Weather.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

Oh, This Love!

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

Boat-Song.

George Pope Morris, 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.

Love And The Seasons

SPRING

A sudden softness in the wind;
    A glint of song, a-wing;
A fragrant sound that trails behind,
    And joy in everything.

A sudden flush upon the cheek,
    The teardrop quick to start;
A hope too delicate to speak,
    And heaven within the heart.

SUMMER

A riotous dawn and the sea's great wonder;
    The red, red heart of a rose uncurled;
And beauty tearing her veil asunder,
    In sight of a swooning world.

A call of the soul, and the senses blended;
    The Springtime lost in the glow of the sun,
And two lives rushing, as God intended,
    To meet and mingle as one.

AUTUMN

The world is out in gala dress;
    And yet it is not gay.
Its splendour hides a loneliness
    For someth...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Spring And Autumn.

Every season hath its pleasures;
    Spring may boast her flowery prime,
Yet the vineyard's ruby treasures
    Brighten Autumn's soberer time.
So Life's year begins and closes;
    Days tho' shortening still can shine;
What tho' youth gave love and roses,
    Age still leaves us friends and wine.

Phillis, when she might have caught me,
    All the Spring looked coy and shy,
Yet herself in Autumn sought me,
    When the flowers were all gone by.
Ah, too late;--she found her lover
    Calm and free beneath his vine,
Drinking to the Spring-time over,
    In his best autumnal wine.

Thus may we, as years are flying,
    To their flight our pleasures suit,
Nor regret the blossoms dying,
    While we still may taste the fruit,
Oh, whil...

Thomas Moore

The Lover's Year (Moods Of Love.)

Thou art my morning, twilight, noon, and eve,
    My Summer and my Winter, Spring and Fall;
    For Nature left on thee a touch of all
The moods that come to gladden or to grieve
The heart of Time, with purpose to relieve
    From lagging sameness. So do these forestall
    In thee such o'erheaped sweetnesses as pall
Too swiftly, and the taster tasteless leave.

Scenes that I love to me always remain
    Beautiful, whether under summer's sun
Beheld, or, storm-dark, stricken across with rain.
    So, through all humors, thou 'rt the same sweet one:
Doubt not I love thee well in each, who see
Thy constant change is changeful constancy.

George Parsons Lathrop

The Evergreen.

Love can not be the aloe-tree,
    Whose bloom but once is seen;
Go search the grove--the tree of love
    Is sure the evergreen:
For that's the same, in leaf or frame,
    'Neath cold or sunny skies;
You take the ground its roots have bound,
    Or it, transplanted, dies!

That love thus shoots, and firmly roots
    In woman's heart, we see;
Through smiles and tears in after-years
    It grows a fadeless tree.
The tree of love, all trees above,
    For ever may be seen,
In summer's bloom or winter's gloom,
    A hardy evergreen.

George Pope Morris

Songs Of The Spring Days

    I.

    A gentle wind, of western birth
    On some far summer sea,
    Wakes daisies in the wintry earth,
    Wakes hopes in wintry me.

    The sun is low; the paths are wet,
    And dance with frolic hail;
    The trees--their spring-time is not yet--
    Swing sighing in the gale.

    Young gleams of sunshine peep and play;
    Clouds shoulder in between;
    I scarce believe one coming day
    The earth will all be green.

    The north wind blows, and blasts, and raves,
    And flaps his snowy wing:
    Back! toss thy bergs on arctic waves;
    Thou canst not bar our spring.


    II.

    Up comes the primrose, wondering;
    The snowdrop droopeth by;
    The holy spirit of the spring
    ...

George MacDonald

Summer Songs

I

How thick the grass,
    How green the shade -
All for love
    And lovers made.

Wood-lilies white
    As hidden lace -
Open your bodice,
    That's their place.

See how the sun-god
    Overpowers
The summer lying
    Deep in flowers;

With burning kisses
    Of bright gold
Fills her young womb
    With joy untold;

And all the world
    Is lad and lass,
A blue sky
    And a couch of grass.

Summer is here -
    let us drain
It all! it may
    Not come again.


II

How the leaves thicken
    On the boughs,
And the birds make
Their lyric vows.

O the beating, breaking
    Heart of things,
The pulse and passion -
    How it ...

Richard Le Gallienne