Spring
The year has changed his mantle cold
Of wind, of rain, of bitter air;
And he goes clad in cloth of gold,
Of laughing suns and season fair;
No bird or beast of wood or wold
But doth with cry or song declare
The year lays down his mantle cold.
All founts, all rivers, seaward rolled,
The pleasant summer livery wear,
With silver studs on broidered vair;
The world puts off its raiment old,
The year lays down his mantle cold.
poem by Charles Duke of Orleans
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Related quotes
A Cradle Song
O men from the fields,
Come gently within.
Tread softly, softly
O men coming in!
Mavourneen is going
From me and from you,
Where Mary will fold him
With mantle of blue!
From reek of the smoke
And cold of the floor
And the peering of things
Across the half-door.
O men of the fields,
Soft, softly come thro'
Mary puts round him
Her mantle of blue.
poem by Padraic Colum
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Renouveau. (From The French)
Now Time throws off his cloak again
Of ermined frost, and cold and rain,
And clothes him in the embroidery
Of glittering son and clear blue sky.
With beast and bird the forest rings,
Each in his jargon cries or sings;
And Time throws off his cloak again
Of ermined frost, and cold and rain.
River, and fount, and tinkling brook
Wear in their dainty livery
Drops of silver jewelry;
In new-made suit they merry look;
And Time throws off his cloak again
Of ermined frost, and cold and rain.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Wintertime Love
Wintertime winds blow cold the season
Fallen in love, Im hopin to be
Wind is so cold, is that the reason?
Keeping you warm, your hands touching me
Come with me dance, my dear
Winters so cold this year
You are so warm
My wintertime love to be
Winter time winds blue and freezin
Comin from northern storms in the sea
Love has been lost, is that the reason?
Trying desperately to be free
Come with me dance, my dear
Winters so cold this year
And you are so warm
My wintertime love to be
La, la, la, la
Come with me dance, my dear
Winters so cold this year
You are so warm
My wintertime love to be
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bird Flew By
Bird flew by
And wondered, wondered why
She was white
And ought to stay up in the sky
From the air she could wonder
For the reason
Whats the point of a year
Or a season
Your life flies away
As the night turns to day
If you start once to think
Your hair will soon turn grey
But one would like to wonder
For the reason
Whats the point of a year
Or a season
The list of fallen stars
And crumbled, broken hearts
Comes from a need
To play so many parts
But one would like to wonder
For the reason
Whats the point of a year
Or a season
The wind and the rain
Shook hands again
Untouched by the world
They managed to keep sane
They were able to wonder
For the reason
Whats the point of a year
Or a season
Bird flew by
And wondered, wondered why
She was white
And ought to stay up in the sky
From the air she could wonder
For the reason
Whats the point of a year
Or a season
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Kiss
The snow is white on wood and wold,
The wind is in the firs,
So dead my heart is with the cold,
No pulse within it stirs,
Even to see your face, my dear,
Your face that was my sun;
There is no spring this bitter year,
And summer's dreams are done.
The snakes that lie about my heart
Are in their wintry sleep;
Their fangs no more deal sting and smart,
No more they curl and creep.
Love with the summer ceased to be;
The frost is firm and fast.
God keep the summer far from me,
And let the snakes' sleep last!
Touch of your hand could not suffice
To waken them once more;
Nor could the sunshine of your eyes
A ruined spring restore.
But ah-your lips! You know the rest:
The snows are summer rain,
My eyes are wet, and in my breast
The snakes' fangs meet again.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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I'm A Fan
It’s football season again
I hope my team does well this year
Football season again
I’m a fan
It’s football season again
Spread that ball across the field
Football season again
I’m a fan
Through the cold and the rain
I’ll be there at the game
A voice screaming to be heard
I’ll cry sometimes, sometimes I’ll smile
As my voice echoes through the crowd
I’m a fan, I’m a fan, I’m a fan
It’s football season again
I hope my team does well this year
Football season again
I’m a fan
It’s football season again
Tackle hard and play it fair
Football season again
I’m a fan
And at the end of the year
We’ll be dressed in the gear
As they turn to salute the crowd
And we’ll stand with pride
‘Cause they’re our side
And we’ll sing their praises loud
We’re the fans, We’re the fans, We’re the fans
Copyright Colin Coplin 2004 / 2010
poem by Colin Coplin
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Autumn: A Dirge
The warm sun is falling, the bleak wind is wailing,
The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying,
And the Year
On the earth is her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead,
Is lying.
Come, Months, come away,
From November to May,
In your saddest array;
Follow the bier
Of the dead cold Year,
And like dim shadows watch by her sepulchre.
The chill rain is falling, the nipped worm is crawling,
The rivers are swelling, the thunder is knelling
For the Year;
The blithe swallows are flown, and the lizards each gone
To his dwelling.
Come, Months, come away;
Put on white, black and gray;
Let your light sisters play--
Ye, follow the bier
Of the dead cold Year,
And make her grave green with tear on tear.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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October in New Zealand
O JUNE has her diamonds, her diamonds of sheen,
Meet for a queen’s neck, if Death had e’er a queen!
June has her blue days, jewels of delight,
Set in the ivory of Alp-land white,—
But October, October’s the lady o’ the year!
O January’s garland is redder than the rose,
And the wine-red ruby of January glows
All the way to madness and half the way to sin,
When sleep is in the poppy and fire is in the whin!
But October, October’s the lady o’ the year!
October will ride in a mantle o’ the vair,
With the flower o’ the quince in her dew-wet hair;
October will ride to the gates of the day,
With the bluebells ringing on her maiden way;—
For October, October’s the lady o’ the year!
poem by Jessie Mackay
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A Faithful Witness
To the firstborn of Yahseph,
Of all that is created;
To the secondborn of Yahseph,
Do set set your mind on Mount Zion;
For His name is His glory and,
Of the economic well-being.
Of the year of the rat,
Of the year of the dog,
Of the year of the cow,
Of the year of the bull,
Of the year of the sheep,
Of the year of the dragon,
Of the year of the snake,
Of the year of the pig,
Of the year of the goat,
Of the year of the lizard,
Of the year of the crocodile,
Of the year of the elephant,
Of the year of the scorpion,
Of the year of the turtle,
Of the year of the fish,
Of the year of the earth,
Of the year of the wind,
Of the year of the fire,
Of the year of the water,
And of the year of the bush!
Like the firstborns of slaves.
The hips of romance,
The faithful witness will not lie;
The same day,
The same night,
Of the love shared at where no oxen are;
And the crib was very clean.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Cold Snow Fall
The snow fall this year will be cold.
How will the homeless surive;
living on your doorstep,
or in your garden?
They will trudge through the snow,
their feet getting wet.
Their hands getting frostbite.
Their lips turning blue.
The snow fall this year will be cold.
Whining for food at your door.
Limping and shivering from the cold.
Why should they be treated like this?
The strays will try to do what they can to surive;
eating leftovers,
scrounging on the bins,
being swept away with a broom.
The snow fall this year will be cold.
You'll be at home,
getting warm by the fire,
opening gifts.
Your door is shut,
the curtains are drawn.
You have no clue what is going on outside,
in the cold cruel world.
poem by Scarlet Outlaw
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There Is But One May In The Year,
There is but one May in the year,
And sometimes May is wet and cold;
There is but one May in the year
Before the year grows old.
Yet though it be the chilliest May,
With least of sun and most of showers,
Its wind and dew, its night and day,
Bring up the flowers.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Out In The Cold
The day fell down, the air got cold
I walked out in the street
Daydreamed for a mil e or two
Staring at my feet
Like a workin boy, out of luck
Fallin through the cracks
Night rolled in, I turned back home
A hard wind at my back
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Body and soul (out in the cold)
Th eres nowhere to go (out in the cold)
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Well I woke up
My brain was stunned
I could come around
I reached out to grab my keys
Tumbled to the ground
I thought of you
Starry eyed
I wondered where we stand
Did I just fall from your arms
Down into your hands
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Body and soul (out in the cold)
Theres nowhere to go (out in the cold)
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Im out
Standin in a doorway
Im out
Walkin around
Hands in my pockets
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Body and soul (out in the cold)
Theres nowhere to go (out in the cold)
Im out in the cold (o ut in the cold)
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wind
Oh the wold, the wold,
Oh the wold, the wold!
Oh the winter stark,
Oh the level dark,
On the wold, the wold, the wold!
Oh the wold, the wold,
Oh the wold, the wold!
Oh the mystery
Of the blasted tree
On the wold, the wold, the wold!
Oh the wold, the wold,
Oh the wold, the wold!
Oh the owlet's croon
To the haggard moon,
To the waning moon,
On the wold, the wold, the wold!
Oh the wold, the wold,
Oh the wold, the wold!
Oh the fleshless stare,
Oh the windy hair,
On the wold, the wold, the wold!
Oh the wold, the wold,
Oh the wold, the wold!
Oh the cold sigh,
Oh the hollow cry,
The lean and hollow cry,
On the wold, the wold, the wold!
Oh the wold, the wold,
Oh the wold, the wold!
Oh the white sight,
Oh the shuddering night,
The shivering shuddering night,
On the wold, the wold, the wold!
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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The Boy and the Mantle
In the third day of May,
To Carleile did come
A kind curteous child,
That cold much of wisdome.
A kirtle and a mantle
This child had uppon,
With brouches and ringes
Full richelye bedone.
He had a sute of silke
About his middle drawne;
Without he cold of curtesye,
He thought itt much shame.
"God speed thee, King Arthur,
Sitting at thy meate:
And the goodly Queene Guénever
I cannott her forgett.
"I tell you, lords, in this hall,
I hett you all to heede,
Except you be the more surer,
Is you for to dread."
He plucked out of his poterner,
And longer wold not dwell;
He pulled forth a pretty mantle,
Betweene two nut-shells.
"Have thou here, King Arthur,
Have thou heere of mee;
Give itt to thy comely queene,
Shapen as itt is alreadye.
"Itt shall never become that wiffe,
That hath once done amisse:-"
Then every knight in the kings court
Began to care for his.
Forth came dame Guénever;
To the mantle shee her hied;
The ladye shee was newfangle,
But yett shee was affrayd.
When shee had taken the mantle,
She stoode as shee had beene madd:
It was from the top to the toe
As sheeres had itt shread.
One while was it gule,
Another while was itt greene;
Another while was it wadded;
Ill itt did her beseeme.
Another while was it blacke,
And bore the worst hue:
"By my troth," quoth King Arthur,
"I thinke thou be not true."
Shee threw downe the mantle,
That bright was of blee;
Fast, with a rudd redd,
To her chamber can shee flee.
She curst the weaver and the walker
That clothe that had wrought,
And bade a vengeance on his crowne
That hither hath itt brought.
"I had rather be in a wood,
Under a greene tree,
Then in King Arthurs court
Shamed for to bee."
Kay called forth his ladye,
And bade her come neere;
Saies, "Madam, and thou be guiltye,
I pray thee hold thee there."
Forth came his ladye,
Shortlye and anon;
Boldlye to the mantle
Then is shee gone.
When she had tane the mantle,
And cast it her about,
Then was shee bare
Before all the rout.
Then every knight,
That was in the kings court,
Talked, laughed, and showted
Full oft att that sport.
She threw downe the mantle,
That bright was of blee;
Fast, with a red rudd,
To her chamber can shee flee.
Forth came an old knight
Pattering ore a creede,
And he proferred to this little boy
Twenty markes to his meede,
And all the time of the Christmasse,
Willinglye to ffeede;
For why this mantle might
Doe his wiffe some need.
When she had tane the mantle,
Of cloth that was made,
Shee had no more left on her,
But a tassell and a threed:
Then every knight in the kings court
Bade evill might shee speed.
Shee threw downe the mantle,
That bright was of blee;
And fast, with a redd rudd,
To her chamber can shee flee.
Craddocke called forth his ladye,
And bade her come in;
Saith, "Winne this mantle, ladye,
With a litle dinne.
"Winne this mantle, ladye,
And it shal be thine,
If thou never did amisse
Since thou wast mine."
Forth came Craddockes ladye,
Shortlye and anon;
But boldlye to the mantle
Then is shee gone.
When she had tane the mantle,
And cast it her about,
Upp att her great toe
It began to crinkle and crowt:
Shee said, "Bowe downe, mantle,
And shame me not for nought.
"Once I did amisse,
I tell you certainlye,
When I kist Craddockes mouth
Under a greene tree;
When I kist Craddockes mouth
Before he marryed mee."
When shee had her shreeven,
And her sines shee had tolde,
The mantle stoode about her
Right as shee wold,
Seemelye of coulour,
Glittering like gold:
Then every knight in Arthurs court
Did her behold.
Then spake dame Guénever
To Arthur our king;
"She hath tane yonder mantle
Not with right, but with wronge.
"See you not yonder woman,
That maketh her self soe cleane?
I have seene tane out of her bedd
Of men fiveteene;
"Priests, clarkes, and wedded men
From her, bedeene:
Yett shee taketh the mantle,
And maketh her self cleane."
Then spake the little boy,
That kept the mantle in hold;
Sayes, "King, chasten thy wiffe,
Of her words shee is to bold:
"Shee is a bitch and a witch,
And a whore bold:
King, in thine owne hall
Thou art a cuckold."
The little boy stoode
Looking out a dore;
And there as he was lookinge
He was ware of a wyld bore.
He was ware of a wyld bore,
Wold have werryed a man:
He pulld forth a wood kniffe,
Fast thither that he ran:
He brought in the bores head,
And quitted him like a man.
He brought in the bores head,
And was wonderous bold:
He said there was never a cuckolds kniffe
Carve itt that cold.
Some rubbed their knives
Uppon a whetstone:
Some threw them under the table,
And said they had none.
King Arthur and the child
Stood looking upon them;
All their knives edges
Turned backe againe.
Craddocke had a little knive
Of iron and of steele;
He britled the bores head
Wonderous weele,
That every knight in the kings court
Had a morssell.
The little boy had a horne,
Of red gold that ronge:
He said there was "noe cuckolde
Shall drinke of my horne,
But he shold it sheede,
Either behind or beforne."
Some shedd on their shoulder,
And some on their knee;
He that cold not hitt his mouthe,
Put it in his eye:
And he that was a cuckold
Every man might him see.
Craddocke wan the horne,
And the bores head:
His ladie wan the mantle
Unto her meede.
Everye such a lovely ladye
God send her well to speede.
poem by Thomas Percy
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Curmudgeon
I cant hide, no
On the mantle
Im not sad
Until Im home
Its the season
Im all reason
I have seen
All I have grown
Sheared at the seams
Cheat on me
And not seen
At the seams
Im a lender
Im a planter
I put something
In the garden
In the handle
On the mantle
I met santa
I met god
Im a lady
Can you save me?
Its the sulfur
I have grown
tis the season
Im all reason
I have fleas
So run on home
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Warmth Of The Sand (Demo Version)
Relax and stand, in the warmth of the sand
The day is long and here for us to take for granted
And find ourselves to our knees
The water clear, the tender breeze upon our faces
As we bask in our good graces
Yeah, we all are golden here
In summer, in summer
Where night belongs to lust and lovers
In summer, in summer
And I appear to win you over
You will be mine this year (this year, this year, this year)
The sun is set, and the, the moon is high
The night is long and here for you and I to capture
We float ourselves to the gills, with icy drinks that bolster wills
And we are braver for the moment
Yeah, we all are golden here
In summer, in summer
Where all the girls bare olive shoulders
In summer, in summer
And I appear to win you over
You will be mine this year (this year, this year, this year)
The courtyard where the garden stands
Behind the beach at Crystal Sands
We shed our clothes and felt romantic
Tempted by the moon fantastic
Bright and warm and ours alone
Absolve us from the sins we own
And from one year into another
I think of you and I feel summer
In summer, in summer
Where all the girls bare olive shoulders
In summer, in summer
Where all you hope for is another
In summer, in summer
Where night belongs to lust and lovers
In summer, in summer
And I appear to win you over
You will be mine this year
(this year, this year, this year, this year, this year, this year, this year)
song performed by by Dashboard Confessional
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring. (From The French Of Charles D'Orleans. XV. Century)
Gentle Spring! in sunshine clad,
Well dost thou thy power display!
For Winter maketh the light heart sad,
And thou, thou makest the sad heart gay,
He sees thee, and calls to his gloomy train,
The sleet, and the snow, and the wind, and the rain;
And they shrink away, and they flee in fear,
When thy merry step draws near.
Winter giveth the fields and the trees, so old,
Their beards of icicles and snow;
And the rain, it raineth so fast and cold,
We must cower over the embers low;
And, snugly housed from the wind and weather,
Mope like birds that are changing feather.
But the storm retires, and the sky grows clear,
When thy merry step draws near.
Winter maketh the sun in the gloomy sky
Wrap him round with a mantle of cloud;
But, Heaven be praised, thy step is nigh;
Thou tearest away the mournful shroud,
And the earth looks bright, and Winter surly,
Who has toiled for nought both late and early,
Is banished afar by the new-born year,
When thy merry step draws near.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Sell Me A Coat
La la la la la la la la la la la la la
A winters day, a bitter snowflake on my face
My summer girl takes little backward steps away
Jack frost took her hand and left me, jack frost aint so cool
Sell me a coat with buttons of silver
Sell me a coat thats red or gold
Sell me a coat with little patch pockets
Sell me a coat cause I feel cold
And when she smiles, the ice forgets to melt away
Not like before, her smile was warming yesterday
See the trees like silver candy, feel my icy hand
Sell me a coat with buttons of silver
Sell me a coat thats red or gold
Sell me a coat with little patch pockets
Sell me a coat cause I feel cold
See my eyes, my window pane
See my tears like gentle rain
Thats the memory of a summer day
Sell me a coat with buttons of silver
Sell me a coat thats red or gold
Sell me a coat with little patch pockets
Sell me a coat cause I feel cold
Sell me a coat with buttons of silver
Sell me a coat thats red or gold
Sell me a coat with little patch pockets
Sell me a coat cause I feel cold
La la la la la la
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Winter Season
The calm after the storm
A beautiful thing
Orange autumn sky
Wet green grass
Dead brown leaves
A few little birds still sing
The temperature is low
Im not complaining
This atmosphere makes me happy
I can wear all my warm clothes
The people are calm
My energy is no longer draining
The parks are all empty
The rivers start to ice
Cars frost over
Day turns to night
The season is bad but the mood nice
The frost now covers the ground
The trees with leaves no more
Its always mellow now a day
The cold has set in to stay now
My mind starts to go astray
This season is my own
The year is almost over
It won't be long now until its over
I don't want it to end
Spring will come soon with the first little clover
My love for this time has no reason
I just don't want it to do
All year around I've looked forward to now
Its my time right now
My beautiful season
poem by Daniel Laurence
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Cold Wind Waits
though the frost is gone, the
cold wind waits.
the robin sings while the
cold wind waits.
a gentle breeze
now blows the wheat,
but a threat of rain
will change to sleet.
the summer slips and the
cold wind waits.
though the warm wind blows, the
cold wind waits.
the traffic crawls while the
cold wind waits.
it's dark too early,
winter too soon,
light of the sun
will change to moon.
the weather turns and the
cold wind waits.
(2011-Bolingbrook, IL)
poem by Mark Money
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