I AT my window sit, and see Autumn his russet fingers lay On ev'ry leaf of ev'ry tree. I call, but Summer will not stay. She flies, the boasting goddess flies, And, pointing where th' espaliers shoot, 'Deserve my parting gift,' she cries, 'I take the leaves but not the fruit.' Let me the parting gift improve, And emulate the just reply, As life's short seasons swift remove, Ere fixed in Winter's frost I lie. Health, beauty, vigour now decline, The pride of Summer's splendid day, Leaves, which the stem must now resign, The mournful prelude of decay. But let fair Virtue's fruit remain, Though Summer with my leaves be fled; Then, not despised, I'll not complain, But cherish Autumn in her stead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...APOLOGIA PRO VITA SUA by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE NATURE; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ALASKA by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER LACHRYMAE MUSARUM (THE DEATH OF TENNYSON) by WILLIAM WATSON THE SHIPS by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH ON THE PICTURE OF LUCRETIA STABBING HERSELF by PHILIP AYRES THE GEOGRAPHER'S GLORY; OR, THE GLOBE IN 1730 by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |