Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE FOUR SEASONS by PHILIP AYRES

First Line: WHEN WINTER'S PAST, THEN EV'RY FIELD AND HILL
Last Line: RETURNS TO DUST, A SHADOW, AND A NOTHING LIES.
Subject(s): SEASONS;
WHEN Winter's past, then ev'ry field and hill,
The @3SPRING@1 with flowers does fill,
Soft winds do cleanse the air,
Repel the fogs, and make the weather fair;
Cold frosts are gone away,
The rivers are at liberty,
And their just tribute pay,
Of liquid pearls, and crystal to the sea;
To whom each brook and fountain runs,
The stable mother of those straggling sons.

CHORUS

@3But then,
In a short space,
WINTER returns again,
Ere@1 Sol @3has run his annual race;
But, Ah! When Death's keen arrow flies,
And hits poor MAN,
Do what he can,
He dies;
Returns to dust, a Shadow, and a Nothing lies.@1

SUMMER

When flow'ry May is past, the Spring is o'er,
Then our cool breezes end;
For Aeolus does send
His sultry blasts from off the southern shore;
The Sun bows down his head,
And darts on us his fiery rays,
Plants droop, and seem as dead,
Most creatures seek for shade their diff'rent ways;
All things as if for moisture cry,
Even rivers with the common thirst grow dry.

CHORUS

@3But then,
In a short space,
The SPRING returns again,
Ere@1 Sol @3has run his annual race:
But, Ah! When Death's keen arrow flies,
And hits poor MAN,
Do what he can,
He dies;
Returns to dust, a Shadow, and a Nothing lies.@1

AUTUMN

When Summer's done, green trees begin to yield;
Their leaves with age decay,
They're stript of their array;
Scarce can the rains revive the russet field:
The flowers run up to seed,
Orchards with choice of fruit abound,
Which sight and taste do feed:
The grateful boughs even kiss their parent ground:
The Elm's kind wife, the tender Vine,
Is pregnant with her heavenly burden, Wine.

CHORUS

@3But then,
In a short space,
SUMMER returns again,
Ere@1 Sol @3has run his annual race:
But, Ah! When Death's keen arrow flies,
And hits poor MAN,
Do what he can,
He dies;
Returns to dust, a Shadow, and a Nothing lies.@1

WINTER

When Autumn's past, sharp eastern winds do blow,
Thick clouds obscure the day,
Frost makes the currents stay,
The aged mountains hoary are with snow.
Altho' the Winter rage;
The wronged trees revenge conspire,
Its fury they assuage;
Alive they serve for fence, when dead for fire;
All creatures from its outrage fly,
Those which want shelter or relief must die.

CHORUS

@3But then,
In a short space,
AUTUMN returns again,
Ere@1 Sol @3has run his annual race:
But, Ah! When Death's keen arrow flies,
And hits poor MAN,
Do what he can,
He dies;
Returns to dust, a Shadow, and a Nothing lies.@1



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