He, when young Spring protrudes the bursting gems
He, when young Spring protrudes the bursting gems,
Into his freshened soul; her genial hours
He full enjoys; and not a beauty blows
And not an opening blossom breathes in vain.
In summer he, beneath the living shade,
Such as o'er frigid Tempe wont to wave
Or Hemus cool, reads what the Muse, of these
Perhaps, has in immortal numbers sung:
Or what she dictates writes: and, oft an eye
Shot round, rejoices in the vigorous year.
When Autumn's yellow lustre gilds the world,
And tempts the sickled swain into the field,
Seiz'd by the general joy, his heart distends
With gentle throes, and through the tepid gleams
Deep-musing, then he best exerts his song.
poem by James Thomson
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Related quotes
A Hymn
These, as they change, Almighty Father, these
Are but the varied God. The rolling year
Is full of thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring
Thy beauty walks, Thy tenderness and love.
Wide flush the fields; the softening air is balm;
Echo the mountains round; the forest smiles,
And every sense, and every heart is joy.
Then comes Thy glory in the summer months,
With light and heart refulgent. Then Thy sun
Shoots full perfection thro' the swelling year;
And of Thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks-
And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve,
By brooks and groves, in hollow-whisp'ring gales.
Thy bounty shines in autumn unconfin'd,
And spreads a common feast for all that lives.
In Winter, awful Thou! with clouds and storms
Around Thee thrown, tempest o'er tempest roll'd,
Majestic darkness! on the whirlwind's wing,
Riding sublime, Thou bidst the world adore;
And humblest Nature with Thy northern blast.
Mysterious round! what skill, what force divine,
Deep felt, in these appear! a simple train,
Yet so delightful mix'd, with such kind art,
Such beauty and beneficence combin'd;
Shade, unperceiv'd, so soft'ning into shade,
And all so forming an harmonious whole,
That they still succeed, they ravish still.
But wand'ring oft, with brute unconscious gaze,
Man marks not Thee, marks not the mighty hand,
That, ever busy, wheels the silent spheres;
Works in the secret deep; shoots, steaming, thence
The fair profusion that o'erspreads the spring;
Flings from the sun direct the flaming day;
Feeds every creature; hurls the tempest forth;
And, as on earth this grateful change revolves,
With transport touches all the springs of life.
Nature, attend! join every living soul,
Beneath the spacious temple of the sky,
In adoration join! and, ardent, raise
One general song! To Him, ye vocal gales,
Breathe soft, whose Spirit in your freshness breathes:
Oh talk of Him in solitary glooms!
Where, o'er the rock, the scarcely waving pine
Fills the brown shade with a religious awe.
And ye, whose bolder note is heard afar,
Who shake the astonished world, lift high to heaven
The impetuous song, and say from whom you rage.
His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills;
And let me catch it as I muse along.
Ye headlong torrents, rapid, and profound;
Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze
Along the vale; and thou, majestic main,
A secret world of wonders in thyself,
Sound His stupendous praise - whose greater voice
Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall.
Soft-roll your incense, herbs, and fruits, and flowers,
In mingled clouds to Him - whose sun exalts,
Whose breath perfumes you, and whose pencil paints.
Ye forests bend, ye harvests wave, to Him;
Breathe your still song into the reaper's heart,
As home he goes beneath the joyous moon.
Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep
Unconcious lies, effuse your mildest beams,
Ye constellations, while your angels strike,
Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre.
Great source of day! best image here below
Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide,
From world to world, the vital ocean round,
On Nature write with every beam His praise.
The thunder rolls: be hushed the prostrate world;
While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn.
Bleat out afresh, ye hills; ye mossy rocks,
Retain the sound: the broad responsive low,
Ye valleys, raise; for the Great Shepherd reigns;
And His unsuffering kingdom yet will come.
Ye woodlands all, awake: a boundless song
Burst from the groves; and when the restless day,
Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep,
Sweetest of birds! sweet Philomela, charm
The listening shades, and teach the night His praise.
Ye, chief, for whom the whole creation smiles,
At once the head, the heart, and tongue of all,
Crown the great hymn! in swarming cities vast,
Assembled men, to the deep organ join
The long-resounding voice, oft-breaking clear,
At solemn pauses, through the swelling base;
And, as each mingling flame increases each,
In one united ardour rise to heaven.
Or if you rather choose the rural shade,
And find a fane in every sacred grove;
There let the shepherd's flute, the virgin's lay,
The prompting seraph, and the poet's lyre,
Still sing the God of Seasons, as they roll.
For me, when I forget the darling theme,
Whether the blossom blows, the Summer-ray
Russets the plain, inspiring Autumn gleams,
Or Winter rises in the blackening east,
Be my tongue mute - my fancy paint no more,
And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat!
Should fate command me to the farthest verge
Of the green earth, to distant barb'rous climes,
Rivers unknown to song - where first the sun
Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam
Falmes on th' Atlantic isles - 'tis nought to me:
Since God is ever present, ever felt,
In the void waste as in the city full;
And where He vital breathes there must be joy.
When ev'n at last the solemn hour shall come,
And wing my mystic flight to future worlds,
I cheerful will obey; there, with new pow'rs,
Will rising wonders sing: I cannot go
Where Universal Love not smiles around,
Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their suns;
From seeming evil still educing good,
And better thence again, and better still,
In infinite progression.- But I lose
Myself in Him, in light ineffable!
Come then, expressive silence, muse His praise.
poem by James Thomson
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Invitation to Love
Come when the nights are bright with stars
Or when the moon is mellow;
Come when the sun his golden bars
Drops on the hay-field yellow.
Come in the twilight soft and gray,
Come in the night or come in the day,
Come, O love, whene'er you may,
And you are welcome, welcome.
You are sweet, O Love, dear Love,
You are soft as the nesting dove.
Come to my heart and bring it rest
As the bird flies home to its welcome nest.
Come when my heart is full of grief
Or when my heart is merry;
Come with the falling of the leaf
Or with the redd'ning cherry.
Come when the year's first blossom blows,
Come when the summer gleams and glows,
Come with the winter's drifting snows,
And you are welcome, welcome.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Bargain of Loss
When at late hours,
The dark night wanes,
Silence prevails all around,
The stars shine,
Clear like precious gems,
Emitting out,
The light compressed.
When the wind blows,
Cool, gentle and soft,
The world enjoys sleep,
Profound and deep,
How heart wishes,
To go stealthily,
To the street of the mistress,
Waiting, anxious and restless.
To tell her passion,
To loosen the burden,
Of eyes, of heart,
To present her scented petals,
Sweet, fresh and of many colours,
In exchange of thorns and dolours.
What a pleasure it is!
In the bargain of loss.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The Autumn Sing
Here’s the autumn sing…
A symphony from its falling leaf…
Catching the wind from a future winter…
Rolling through a shy light…
Oh autumn shall not die in winter…
As a promise summer will surely come….
Ah autumn is a second spring…
Not all could see, all leaf is flower….
Autumn warn a terrible winter phase….
No one listen, No one will hear it…
As it is only the sound of silence….
Who can hold an indefinite sound...?
No one embrace the autumn….
As it is only a sad phase…
It gives nothing but an autumn chill….
Spring always comes with a better glory…
Oh autumn with its broken feather…
Could other season patch it up again?
No other season will devote their being….
Autumn suffers alone….
Autumns leaf keep on falling…
Spring comes cheerfully…
Summer comes strongly….
Winter always comes coldly…..
But autumn changes its face every time….
No one knows the differences….
Just the secret of the nature…
Why can’t it’d be a spring?
Why can’t it’d be summer?
Why can’t it’d be winter?
Ah autumn dance again between all the falling leaf…
It enjoys its sadness…
It embraces its pain….
As only from autumn all painter learn…
How to capture a true hidden beauty…
All speaks the same in every season….
But autumn remain different…..
For autumn is an alone singer…
Only a genuinely soul painter could witness its beauty….
That’s all the autumn need….
A silence audience....
Who can make other being see….
A glance of its beauty...
poem by Eva Clara Harahap
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The Beauty of Spring
The Beauty of Spring
I am looking out of a glass window.
I see a group of cherry blossom trees in the distance.
Nearby, there is a quaint little house.
This magnificence takes my breathe away.
The Beauty of Spring.
Daffodils are blooming.
Butterflies are fluttering through the air.
Robins are singing there beautiful song.
The world is coming back to life after a long winter.
The Beauty of Spring.
A gentle breeze skims across my face.
I inhale the sweet scent of flowers.
I see a world of gorgeous and vivid colors.
I absolutely love spring.
The Beauty of Spring.
I am Taking in The Beauty of Spring
poem by Bleeding Heart
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: XCIV
A YEAR AGO
A year ago I too was proud of May,
I too delighted in the blackbird's song.
When the sun shone my soul made holiday.
When the rain fell I felt it as a wrong.
Then for me too the world was fresh and young.
Oh what a miracle each bluebell was!
How my heart leaped in union with my tongue,
When first I lit upon a stag's horn moss!
--A year ago! Alas, one Summer's fire,
One autumn's chill, one Winter's discontent,
And now one Spring of joy and hope deferred
Have brought me to this pass of undesire
That I behold May's veil of beauty rent
And stand unmoved by sun and flower and bird.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Nature's Season's
Season's come and season's go,
There are four in each year,
Of our time keeping.
Spring,
Summer,
Autumn,
Winter,
In other parts of the world,
Their season's are called something else,
Each Season is,
Of different type,
Yet,
Two and Two,
To begin and become,
Spring shows the begining,
Of growth and new season,
So for plants,
Vegetation,
Spring Chickens,
Spring Lambs,
The Calflings,
The Fouls,
All come in the Spring,
And flourish in the Summer,
Summer shows bloom,
From the plants to the Fouls,
And all are seen in full bloom,
Even the birds and the bees,
Sing the songs,
Of spring and summer,
With the Sun's rays,
That shows nature,
In full bloom,
By the time,
All is in full bloom,
And what shows and blooms,
Blossoms all summer,
And just when we are relaxed,
And see no clouds in the sky,
The seson changes,
Beginning with,
The fall,
Autumn's,
Season,
Commences to begin,
Where,
All in bloom,
Falls away and decays,
While the rest,
Fly away,
And,
Migrate,
Or,
Hibernate,
And just when,
We have seen it all disappear,
The frost and snow,
Covers all over,
And chills the air,
Where the chilling effect,
Kills off all decay,
And the blue ice time period,
Takes over for a time,
Chilling,
Freeezing,
Keeping everything beneath the earth,
As winter sets itself right in,
And far beneath the froasted earth,
Is all in nature,
Rekindling itself,
To regrowth itself,
And then spring growth,
Again,
Next season,
That starts the circle of life,
2 x 2 = 4,
The four seasons,
Of,
Our circle of life,
Spring,
Summer,
Autumn,
Winter,
The four seasons,
Of ours,
That is 2 x 2,
Spring and Summer,
Then,
Autumn and Winter,
That makes it known,
As 4 seasons,
To us all.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Life Is Lovely All the Year
When the buds are blossoming,
Smiling welcome to the spring,
Lovers choose a wedding day -
Life is love in merry May!
Spring is green - Fal lal la!
Summer's rose - Fal lal la!
It is sad when Summer goes,
Fal la!
Autumn's gold - Fal lal la!
Winter's grey - Fal lal la!
Winter still is far away -
Fal la!
Leaves in Autumn fade and fall;
Winter is the end of all.
Spring and summer teem with glee:
Spring and summer, then, for me!
Fal la!
In the Spring-time seed is sown:
In the Summer grass is mown:
In the Autumn you may reap:
Winter is the time for sleep.
Spring is hope - Fal lal la!
Summer's joy - Fal lal la!
Spring and Summer never cloy,
Fal la!
Autumn, toil - Fal lal la!
Winter, rest - Fal lal la!
Winter, after all, is best -
Fal la!
Spring and summer pleasure you,
Autumn, ay, and winter, too -
Every season has its cheer;
Life is lovely all the year!
Fal la!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Pessimism
I
WHILE baby Spring sticks daisies in her hair,
Or Summer laughs with flushed triumphant face
We crush our heart rebellious at earth's grace,
And smile 'How, like the season, life is fair!'
But when the last leaf falls in the dull air,
And skies grow pale, and fields lie lost a space,
Ere their first furrow ploughs begin to trace,
And pastures shiver desolate and bare--
Oh, then one breathes; at last free from the sway
Of selfish spring--from summer's insolent reign,
One dares to speak the truth--how all life's way
Is blank as autumn skies made grey with rain,
Most blank when most the glad year bade forbear
To mar her grace with our unveiled despair.
II
NOT Spring--too lavish of her bud and leaf--
But Autumn, with sad eyes and brow austere,
When fields are bare, and woods are brown and sere,
And leaden skies weep their exhaustless grief.
Spring is so much too bright, since Spring is brief.
And in our hearts is autumn all the year,
Least sad when the wide pastures are most drear,
And fields grieve most robbed of the last gold sheaf.
For when the plough goes down the brown wet field,
A delicate doubtful throb of hope is ours--
What if this coming Spring at last should yield
Joy, with her too profuse unasked-for flowers?
Not all our Springs of commonplace and pain
Have taught us now that autumn hope is vain.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Cora
Of Cora, once so dearly ours,
Would mournful memory sing;
Of how she came when came the flowers,
To leave us with the spring.
That day (returned) which gave her breath
Was that whereon she died,
And o’er the pangs of birth and death
Passed blooming as a bride.
The spring it came, with never a storm,
And nine times came and went,
Till its whole spirit with her form
In budding beauty blent.
Yea, till its sentiment was wreathed
About her eye it came,
And all its foregone influence breathed
At mention of her name.
And aye her soul, her inward worth,
Flushed out in subtle glows,
As from its heart come mantling forth
The ardours of a rose.
It was a glory from within
That made her face so fair,
A radiant spirit void of sin
Was working outward there.
Her locks as they were burnished shone
In many a massy fold,
Or fell in their profusion down
Like bursting sheaves of gold.
Bright garments of a spirit bright,
That even in the shroud
Were like the sunset’s aureate light
Within a lifeless cloud.
When she, our angel of the sun,
Had spread her wings in flight,
Ah, still would mournful memory sing
Of her, our lost delight!
Child with full orbs of heaven-deep blue
Illumined violet,
So richly gentle—touched with dew,
Befringed with glossy jet.
When with the spring we saw depart
Those eyes, those tresses curled,
Then summer dying in love’s heart,
To winger left the world.
Ah, soul that wore the snowy brow,
And gentle shining eyes,
Our song hath aye this burden now
Beneath the vernal skies.
In vain the dews of heaven are shed
Where blight hath been before;
So vainly weep we o’er the dead,
But only weep the more.
Yet from the bright time of her birth
And death, does faith construe
How, like the spring, though not on earth,
Our joy shall bloom anew.
poem by Charles Harpur
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Crunchy Leaves Beneath my Feet
Crunchy leaves beneath my feet
Tumbling to the path
Storms blow through as autumn comes
A taste of nature’s wrath
Brilliant red, orange and yellow
Leafs that the wild wind blows
It’s nature’s way of showing us
Summer’s coming to a close
As summer turns to autumn
The crispy days revisit
A chill now in the nighttime hours
But the colors are so exquisite!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Their Hearts Were Full Of Spring
Theres a story told of a very gentle boy
And the girl who wore his ring
Through the wintery snow
The world they knew was one
For their hearts were full of spring
As the days grew old
And the nights passed into time
And the weeks and years took wind
Gentle boy, tender girl
Their love remained still young
For their hearts were full of spring
Then one day they died
And their graves were side by side
On a hill where robins sing
And they say violets
Grow there the whole year round
For their hearts were full of spring
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Memory's Care
Sing not to me a song of beauty bright,
Nor festive scenes of dazzling light;
Nor of gorgeous pageant in palace hall
Begemmed with many a coronal;
But sing to me my memory's care -
The misspent hours fled where - oh where?
Sing not to me of the battlefield,
Nor splintered lance nor of broken shield,
Not of gory plumes once freshly fair,
Not of banners rent nor pennon bare;
But sing to me my memory's care -
The misspent hours fled where - oh where?
Sing not to me of the sea-fight won,
By daring hearts and by flashing gun,
Not how o'er the deep in exultant glee
The victor's ship speeds galliantly;
But sing to me my memory's care -
The misspent hours fled where - oh where?
Sing not of summer, sing not of spring,
For these no joy to my heart can bring;
Sing not of autumn yellow and sere
Sing not of pallid winter frosty and drear;
But sing to me my memory's care -
The misspent hours fled where - oh where?
Sing not of Love's deep tenderness
Nor its whispered words, share its sweet caress;
Sing not to me of Beauty's power,
Nor the bridal morn - Love's dearest hour!
But sing to me my memory's care
The misspent hours fled where - oh where?
Sing - sing to me with a mocking song,
Of the guilty past and its deeds of wrong;
Sing - till around me the phantoms come,
Or the broken hearts in a distant home;
These, these are my memory's care,
And shriek them forth to my soul's despair!
poem by Owen Suffolk
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To a Robin in November
Sweet, sweet and the soft listening heaven reels
In one blue ecstasy above thy song
In the red heart of all the opening year,
In the hushed murmur of low dreaming fields
Hung under heaven ’twixt dim blue and blue;
Where the young Summer, purpled and pearled in dew,
Mirrors herself in June, and knows no wrong.
Sweet, sweet, throwing thy lack of fear
Back to the heart of God, till heaven feels
The throbbing of earth’s music through and through.
Dreaming in song,—great pulsing-hearted hills,
Cradling the dawn in mists and purple veils
Of vapors, over pearls of lakes and brooks
Girdled about the neck of half the world,
When the red birth of the young dreaming June
Kisses the lands with gales, and murmurs, and trills
Of melody, lips that blossom with tales
Of music and color and form and beauty of looks
And snowy argosies in heaven furled,
All summer set to one sweet warbled tune.
And thou, red-throated, comest back to me
Here in the bare November bleak and chill,
Breathing the red-ripe of the lusty June
Over the rime of withered field and mere;
O heart of music, while I dream of thee,
Thou gladdest note in the dead Summer’s tune,
Great God! thou liest dead outside my sill,
Starved of the last chill berry on thy tree,
Like some sweet instrument left all unstrung,
The melodious orchestra of all the year.
Dead with the sweet dead summer thou had’st sung;
Dead with the dead year’s voices and clasp of hands;
Dead with all music and love and laughter and light;
While chilly and bleak comes up the winter night,
And shrieks the gust across the leafless lands.
poem by William Wilfred Campbell
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June Roads
Something lost in the rustic leaves
Of an old September song
I've found again in summer retrieves
Of June daydreaming long
Feelings I thought were lost and gone
Full of hope in their breeze
Are here again to carry me on
In their sideways of believes
Yesterday became young and new
Catching the slight softly leaves
That yellow brown withering blew
Near into the oblivion eves
Fresh again every pathway is
Coming full of musing fantasies on
Treetops in their peeks and whiz
Summer days of pulchritudinous yon
Summer is like a song that comes
With full chorus lines rising
And into every verdure space hums
Full of tincturing surprising
The love songs spring tides weaving
Much hope to look forward to
After a dimwitted night aggrieving
Before June roads came through
(A song from my ‘Beautiful Melodies’, a lead sheet shall follow shortly on the net)
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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The Fairy Bridal-Hymn
[This is the hymn to Eleanor, daughter of Mab and a golden drone, sung by the Locust choir when the fairy child marries her God, the yellow rose]
This is a song to the white-armed one
Cold in the breast as the frost-wrapped Spring,
Whose feet are slow on the hills of life,
Whose round mouth rules by whispering.
This is a song to the white-armed one
Whose breast shall burn as a Summer field,
Whose wings shall rise to the doors of gold,
Whose poppy lips to the God shall yield.
This is a song to the white-armed one
When the closing rose shall bind her fast,
And a song of the song their blood shall sing,
When the Rose-God drinks her soul at last.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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A Song Thats Sung..
A song that's sung
tells more than a story
a song that's sung
is sung from the heart
a song that's sung
is a story from the soul
a song that's sung
is the greatest love
a song that's sung
is a give from above
a song that's sung
is an emotion in a melody
a song that's sung
can be whatever you want it to be
a song that's sung
can have a million meanings
a song that's sung
is a diary of emotions...
poem by Emily Summers
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The Day-Dream
THE thronged boughs of the shadowy sycamore
Still bear young leaflets half the summer through;
From when the robin 'gainst the unhidden blue
Perched dark, till now, deep in the leafy core,
The embowered throstle's urgent wood-notes soar
Through summer silence. Still the leaves come new;
Yet never rosy-sheathed as those which drew
Their spiral tongues from spring-buds heretofore.
Within the branching shade of Reverie
Dreams even may spring till autumn; yet none be
Like woman's budding day-dream spirit-fann'd.
Lo! tow'rd deep skies, not deeper than her look,
She dreams; till now on her forgotten book
Drops the forgotten blossom from her hand.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Nature’s Seasons
Crunchy leaves beneath my feet
Tumbling to the path
Storms blow through as autumn comes
A taste of nature’s wrath.
Brilliant reds, oranges and yellows
The leaves that the wind blows
It’s nature’s way of showing us
A season’s at a close.
Then delicious spring strolls through
Tiny buds softly soon appear
Opening ever so slowly
Such a special time of year.
Summer, well, we never know
How hot nature plans to be
We love it too because we enjoy
Fewer clothes and feeling free.
As summer turns to autumn
The crispy days return
New colors once more we see
More of nature’s lessons to learn.
Then winter is the time, of course
That nature can be wild
She’s nasty and ever willful
Just like a spoiled little child.
I just love the seasons
That fills a year with such a mix
Of colors textures and smells
While nature plays her tricks!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Seasonable Retour-Knell
SEASONABLE RETOUR KNELL
Variations on a theme...
SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS
Author notes
A mirrored Retourne may not only be read either from first line to last or from last to first as seen in the mirrors, but also by inverting the first and second phrase of each line, either rhyming AAAA or ABAB for each verse. thus the number of variations could be multiplied several times.- two variations on the theme have been included here but could have been extended as in SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS robi03_0069_robi03_0000
In respect of SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS
This composition has sought to explore linguistic potential. Notes and the initial version are placed before rather than after the poem.
Six variations on a theme have been selected out of a significant number of mathematical possibilities using THE SAME TEXT and a reverse mirror for each version. Mirrors repeat the seasons with the lines in reverse order.
For the second roll the first four syllables of each line are reversed, and sense is retained both in the normal order of seasons and the reversed order as well... The 3rd and 4th variations offer ABAB rhyme schemes retaining the original text. The 5th and 6th variations modify the text into rhyming couplets.
Given the linguistical structure of this symphonic composition the score could be read in inversing each and every line and each and every hemistitch. There are minor punctuation differences between versions.
One could probably attain sonnet status for each of the four seasons and through partioning in 3 groups of 4 syllables extend the possibilites ad vitam.
Seasonable Round Robin Roll Reversals
robi03_0069_robi03_0000 QXX_DNZ
Seasonable Retour-Knell
robi03_0070_robi03_0069 QXX_NXX
26 March 1975 rewritten 20070123
lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll lllllllllllllllllll
For previous version see below
_______________________________________
SPRING SUMMER
Life is at ease Young lovers long
Land under plough; To hold their dear;
Whispering trees, Dewdrops among,
Answering cow. Bold, know no fear.
Blossom, the bees, Life full of song,
Burgeoning bough; Cloudless and clear;
Soft-scented breeze, Days fair and long,
Spring warms life now. Summer sends cheer.
AUTUMN WINTER
Each leaf decays, Harvested sheaves
Each life must bow; And honeyed hives;
Our salad days Trees stripped of leaves,
Are ending now. Jack Frost has knives.
Fruit heavy lays Time, Prince of thieves,
Bending the bough, - Onward he drives,
Autumn dismays, While Winter grieves
Sun drifting down. Over our lives.
26 March 1975
Enjoy!
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Seasonable Retour-Knell I
Spring burgeons, breeze blows blossom, bees,
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long,
Autumn displays sunsets which wow,
White Winter grieves over our lives.
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long,
cloudless and clear, life full of song.
To draw dear near, young lovers long,
sure, know no fear, symphony strong.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow,
fruit heavy lays bending the bough,
each leaf decays, each life must bow,
Fall’s salad days all ending now.
White Winter grieves over our lives.
Harvested sheaves, hibernate hives,
Trees stripped of leaves, Jack Frost has knives.
Time, Prince of thieves, onward he drives.
____ _____ ___
Time, Prince of thieves, onward he drives.
Trees stripped of leaves, Jack Frost has knives.
Harvested sheaves, hibernate hives,
White Winter grieves over our lives.
Fall’s salad days all ending now,
each leaf decays, each life must bow,
fruit heavy lays bending the bough,
Autumn displays sunsets which wow.
Sure know no fear, symphony strong,
to draw dear near, young lovers long.
Cloudless and clear, life full of song,
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long.
White Winter grieves over our lives.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow,
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long,
Spring burgeons, breeze blows blossom, bees …
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Seasonable Retour-Knell II
Spring burgeons, breeze blows blossom, bees,
days fair and long, Summer sends cheer.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow,
Over our lives white Winter grieves.
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long,
life full of song, cloudless and clear,
To draw dear near, young lovers long, -
symphony strong - sure, know no fear.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow,
bending the bough, fruit heavy lays.
each leaf decays, each life must bow,
all ending now Fall’s salad days.
White Winter grieves over our lives.
hibernate hives, Harvested sheaves,
trees stripped of leaves, - Jack Frost has knives.
Onward he drives, Time, Prince of thieves.
____ _____ ___
Onward he drives, Time, Prince of thieves.
Trees stripped of leaves, - Jack Frost has knives.
Hibernate hives, Harvested sheaves,
White Winter grieves over our lives.
All ending now, Fall’s salad days.
Each leaf decays, each life must bow,
bending the bough, fruit heavy lays.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow.
Sure know no fear, symphony strong,
young lovers long to draw dear near,
Cloudless and clear, life full of song,
days fair and long, Summer sends cheer.
White Winter grieves over our lives.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow,
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long,
Spring burgeons, breeze blows blossom, bees …
.
© Jonathan Robin 25 January 2007
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SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS
Seasonable Role Reversal Part I
Life is at ease, land under plough
whispers, receives free-grazing cow.
Spring wave-wakes tree’s burgeoning bough,
soft-scented breeze, bees, blossom, now.
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long,
cloudless and clear, life full of song.
To draw dear near, young lovers long,
sure, know no fear, symphony strong.
Each leaf decays, each life must bow,
Fall’s salad days all ending now.
Fruit heavy lays bending the bough,
Autumn displays sunsets which wow.
Harvested sheaves, hibernate hives,
trees stripped of leaves, Jack Frost has knives.
Time, Prince of thieves, onward he drives,
white Winter grieves over our lives.
_ _ _ _ _
White Winter grieves over our lives.
Time, Prince of thieves, onward he drives.
trees stripped of leaves, Jack Frost has knives.
Harvested sheaves, hibernate hives.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow.
Fruit heavy lays bending the bough.
Fall’s salad days all ending now,
Each leaf decays, each life must bow.
Sure, know no fear, - symphony strong -
to draw dear near, young lovers long,
Cloudless and clear, life full of song.
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long.
Soft-scented breeze, bees, blossom, now,
Spring wave-wakes tree’s burgeoning bough
whispers, receives free-grazing cow.
Life is at ease, land under plough.
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Seasonable Role Reversal Part II
Land under plough, Life is at ease,
free-grazing cow whispers receives.
Burgeoning bough, Spring wave-wakes trees.
Bees, blossom; Now, soft-scented breeze.
Days fair and long, Summer sends cheer,
life full of song, cloudless and clear,
Young lovers long to draw dear near, -
symphony strong - sure, know no fear.
Each life must bow, each leaf decays,
All ending now. Fall’s salad days,
bending the bough, fruit heavy lays.
Sunsets which wow Autumn displays.
Hibernate hives, harvested sheaves,
Jack Frost has knives. Trees stripped of leaves.
Onward he drives, Time, Prince of thieves,
over our lives, white Winter grieves.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Over our lives white Winter grieves,
onward he drives, Time, Prince of thieves,
Jack Frost has knives. Trees stripped of leaves,
Hibernate hives, harvested sheaves.
Sunsets which wow Autumn displays.
Bending the bough, fruit heavy lays,
all ending now, Fall’s salad days.
Each life must bow, each leaf decays.
Symphony strong - sure know no fear –
young lovers long to draw dear near.
Life full of song, cloudless and clear,
days fair and long, Summer sends cheer.
Bees, blossom. Now, soft-scented breeze,
burgeoning bough, Spring wave-wakes trees.
Free-grazing cow whispers receives.
Land under plough, Life is at ease.
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Seasonable Role Reversal Part III
Life is at ease, land under plough,
free-grazing cow whispers, receives.
Spring wave-wakes tree’s burgeoning bough,
bees, blossom, now, soft-scented breeze.
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long,
life full of song cloudless and clear.
To draw dear near, young lovers long, -
symphony strong sure, - know no fear.
Each leaf decays, each life must bow,
All ending now, Fall’s salad days.
Fruit heavy lays bending the bough,
Sunsets which wow Autumn displays.
Harvested sheaves, hibernate hives,
Jack Frost has knives, trees stripped of leaves.
Time, Prince of thieves, onward he drives,
over our lives white Winter grieves.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Over our lives white Winter grieves.
Time, Prince of thieves, onward he drives.
Jack Frost has knives, trees stripped of leaves.
Harvested sheaves, hibernate hives.
Sunsets which wow Autumn displays.
Fruit heavy lays bending the bough.
All ending now, Fall’s salad days,
Each leaf decays, each life must bow.
Symphony strong. Sure, know no fear,
to draw dear near, young lovers long.
Life full of song cloudless and clear,
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long.
.
Bees, blossom, now, soft-scented breeze.
Spring wave-wakes tree’s burgeoning bough.
Free-grazing cow whispers, receives.
Life is at ease land under plough.
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Seasonable Role Reversal Part IV
Land under plough, life is at ease,
whispers receives free-grazing cow
Spring wave-wakes trees, burgeoning bough,
soft-scented breeze Bees, blossom, - now.
Days fair and long, Summer sends cheer,
cloudless and clear, life full of song,
Young lovers long to draw dear near,
sure, know no fear, - symphony strong.
Each life must bow, each leaf decays,
Fall’s salad days all ending now.
Bending the bough, fruit heavy lays.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow.
Hibernate hives, harvested sheaves,
Jack Frost has knives. Trees stripped of leaves.
Onward he drives, Time, Prince of thieves,
over our lives, white Winter grieves.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Over our lives white Winter grieves
onward he drives, Time, Prince of thieves,
Jack Frost has knives. Trees stripped of leaves,
Hibernate hives, harvested sheaves.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow.
Bending the bough, fruit heavy lays, -
Fall’s salad days all ending now.
Each life must bow, each leaf decays.
Sure, know no fear, - symphony strong -
young lovers long to draw dear near.
Cloudless and clear, life full of song,
Days fair and long, Summer sends cheer.
Soft-scented breeze, bees, blossom, now,
Spring wave-wakes trees, burgeoning bough.
Whispers receives free-grazing cow.
Land under plough, life is at ease.
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Seasonable Role Reversal Part V
Life is at ease, soft-scented breeze
whispers, receives. Spring wave-wakes tree’s
burgeoning bough. Bees, blossom, now.
Land under plough, free-grazing cow.
Summer sends cheer, cloudless and clear.
Sure, know no fear, to draw dear near,
young lovers long symphony strong.
Life full of song, days fair and long.
Autumn displays Fall’s salad days.
Each leaf decays, fruit heavy lays
bending the bough, each life must bow,
Sunsets which wow all ending now.
Harvested sheaves, trees stripped of leaves,
White Winter grieves. Time, Prince of thieves,
onward he drives over our lives.
Hibernate hives. Jack Frost has knives.
_ _ _ _ _
Hibernate hives. Jack Frost has knives,
onward he drives over our lives.
White Winter grieves Time, Prince of thieves.
Harvested sheaves, trees stripped of leaves.
Sunsets which wow all ending now.
bending the bough, each life must bow,
Each leaf decays, fruit heavy lays
Autumn displays Fall’s salad days.
Life full of song, days fair and long.
Young lovers long symphony strong.
sure, know no fear to draw dear near.
Summer sends cheer, cloudless and clear.
Life is at ease, soft-scented breeze.
Land under plough, free-grazing cow,
burgeoning bough, bees. Blossom now
whispers, receives. Spring wave-wakes trees.
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Seasonable Role Reversal Part VI
Bees, blossom, now, burgeoning bough,
free-grazing cow, land under plough.
Spring wave-wakes trees, whispers, receives,
life is at ease, soft-scented breeze.
Cloudless and clear, Summer sends cheer.
To draw dear near, sure, know no fear,
symphony strong young lovers long.
Days fair and long, life full of song.
All ending now - sunsets which wow -
each life must bow. Bending the bough,
fruit heavy lays. Each leaf decays.
Fall’s salad days Autumn displays.
Jack Frost has knives, onward he drives
over our lives. Hibernate hives,
trees stripped of leaves, harvested sheaves.
Time, Prince of thieves. White Winter grieves.
_ _ _ _ _
Time, Prince of thieves! White Winter grieves -
trees stripped of leaves, harvested sheaves -
over our lives. Hibernate hives.
Jack Frost has knives, onward he drives.
Fall’s salad days Autumn displays.
Fruit heavy lays, each leaf decays,
each life must bow bending the bough.
All ending now sunsets which wow.
Days fair and long, life full of song,
symphony strong - young lovers long
to draw dear near, sure, know no fear.
Cloudless and clear, Summer sends cheer.
Life is at ease, soft-scented breeze,
Spring wave-wakes trees, whispers, receives.
Free-grazing cow, land under plough,
bees, blossom, now, burgeoning bough.
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poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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