THE year has changed his mantle cold Of wind, of rain, of bitter air; And he goes clad in cloth of gold, Of laughing suns and season fair; No bird or beast of wood or wold But doth with cry or song declare The year lays down his mantle cold. All founts, all rivers, seaward rolled, The pleasant summer livery wear, With silver studs on broidered vair; The world puts off its raiment old, The year lays down his mantle cold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOU ARE FIRE EATERS by MARIANNE MOORE REVELATION by LOUIS UNTERMEYER SOME VERSES UPON THE BURNING OF OUR HOUSE JULY 10, 1666 by ANNE BRADSTREET THE CITY OF GOD by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1822-1882) BRIDAL BALLAD by EDGAR ALLAN POE CAMPS OF GREEN by WALT WHITMAN |