Top 100 Poems About: AUTUMN

In this page, poems on / about “autumn” are listed.
  • 1.
    Ode To Autumn

    Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
    Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
    Conspiring with him how to load and bless
    With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run; read more »

    John Keats
  • 2.

    Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain,
    With banners, by great gales incessant fanned,
    Brighter than brightest silks of Samarcand,
    And stately oxen harnessed to thy wain! read more »

    Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
  • 3.
    Autumn Day

    Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.
    Lay your shadow on the sundials
    and let loose the wind in the fields. read more »

    Rainer Maria Rilke
  • 4.
    Autumn River Song

    The moon shimmers in green water.
    White herons fly through the moonlight.

    The young man hears a girl gathering water-chestnuts: read more »

    Li Po
  • 5.
    Autumn Movement

    I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

    The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper
       sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds. read more »

    Carl Sandburg
  • 6.
    Autumn Moonlight

    Autumn moonlight--
    a worm digs silently
    into the chestnut. read more »

    Matsuo Basho
  • 7.
    Autumn Song

    Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
    How the heart feels a languid grief
    Laid on it for a covering,
    And how sleep seems a goodly thing read more »

    Dante Gabriel Rossetti
  • 8.

    The leaves are falling, falling as if from far up,
    as if orchards were dying high in space.
    Each leaf falls as if it were motioning "no." read more »

    Rainer Maria Rilke
  • 9.
    Autumn Song

    Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow,
       The sunset hangs on a cloud;
    A golden storm of glittering sheaves,
    Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves, read more »

    Sarojini Naidu
  • 10.

    The thistledown's flying, though the winds are all still,
    On the green grass now lying, now mounting the hill,
    The spring from the fountain now boils like a pot;
    Through stones past the counting it bubbles red-hot. read more »

    John Clare
  • 11.

    Soon we will plunge ourselves into cold shadows,
    And all of summer's stunning afternoons will be gone.
    I already hear the dead thuds of logs below
    Falling on the cobblestones and the lawn. read more »

    Charles Baudelaire
  • 12.
    Autumn Valentine

    In May my heart was breaking-
    Oh, wide the wound, and deep!
    And bitter it beat at waking,
    And sore it split in sleep. read more »

    Dorothy Parker
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