THERE is music in the meadows, in the air -- Autumn is here; Skies are gray, but hearts are mellow, Leaves are crimson, brown, and yellow; Pines are soughing, birches stir, And the Gipsy trail is fresh beneath the fir. There is rhythm in the woods, and in the fields, Nature yields: And the harvest voices crying, Blend with Autumn zephyrs sighing; Tone and color, frost and fire, Wings the nocturne Nature plays upon her lyre. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NICHARCHUS UPON PHIDON HIS DOCTOR by EZRA POUND LWONESOMENESS by WILLIAM BARNES ELEGY: 19. TO HIS MISTRESS GOING TO BED by JOHN DONNE MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 3 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI EJACULATORY PRAYER by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |