Artwork Description:
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run
To bend with apples the moss d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For summer has o er-brimm d their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind
Or on a half-reap d furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring Ay, where are they
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,--
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn
Hedge-crickets sing and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Keywords:
Autumn, Rhythms, Floral, Garden, Flowers, Fall, Colors, Original Painting, Landscape Painting