Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SEASONS, by THOMAS HOLCROFT


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SEASONS, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Ere the beard of thistle sails
Last Line: At harvest-home our catches roar.
Subject(s): Autumn; Seasons; Fall


ERE the beard of thistle sails,
Ere the tadpoles wag their tails;
When the maids with milking-pails
Doff their mits and blow their nails;
When the cottage chimney smokes,
And wanton greybeards crack their jokes
By the glowing ember's light,
And scare the girls with tale of sprite;
Then will we, o'er ale and cakes,
Brag of feats at autumn wakes.

When the swallows twittering sing
Of the lovely birth of spring;
When bridegrooms make our three bells ring,
Ding dong ding—ding dong ding;
When the valley's face is seen
Veiled in many a shade of green;
When girls of husbands nightly dream,
And jolly swains get clouted cream;
Then we, upon sweet primrose beds,
Will troll our glees and rest our heads.

When the young frog fears the rook,
When the kine stand in the brook;
When sleepy louts lose many a crook,
And codlings drop when trees are shook;
When salt mushrooms nightly spring,
And martins dip the dappled wing;
When the sun with straight-down beam
Lathers well the lusty team;
Then beneath new hay-ricks we
Will sing with might and merry glee.

When the sickle and the scythe
Make the ruddy farmer blithe;
When Hodge the bulky sheaf doth writhe,
And our fat Vicar claims his tithe;
When autumn yields her golden store,
Till well-filled barns can hold no more;
When ripe fruits press the plenteous board,
And old wives cull their wintry hoard;
Then will we, when labour's o'er,
At harvest-home our catches roar.





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