"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness"
Ode to Autumn
- John Keats
The hazy, hot, and humid days of summer spent,
Of her bright fireworks, only the embers remain;
Intemperate with pride, she thought the rules were made
For others, forgetting each player takes a turn.
The fall will yield a bumper crop from fertile earth,
A fruitful harvest, culled by labor, and with love;
And the fall offers cool mornings and sunny days
In defiance of icy winter's coming blast.
When winter comes again, her frigid onslaught sure,
When blizzards cloak the land, when rivers slow and freeze,
Beneath the suffocating coat of ice and snow,
Shy spring will wait her turn, to green the world again.