Jun 162013
 

Comprehensive collection of Autumn Quotes. The compilation includes some good quality text submitted by users. Browse through our nice repository of Autumn Quotes with latest and new quotes being added quite often. You will find unique quotes and sayings which you can rate and review. Explore best and rare collection of Autumn Quotes here, select any text from the wide range and share or send using mobile. Apart from general Autumn Quotes, the collection also includes some popular Autumn Quotes. You can help us to enrich this collection of Autumn Quotes by sending and submitting more messages from your collection to us and by providing nice ideas. This is Part – 3 of Autumn Quotes.

From gold to gray Our mild sweet day Of Indian summer fades too soon; But tenderly Above the sea Hangs, white and calm, the hunter’s moon.

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Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson, Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green. Such a kindly autumn, so mercifully dealing With the growths of summer, I never yet have seen.

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How are the veins of thee, Autumn, laden. Umbered juices, And pulped oozes Pappy out of the cherry-bruises, Froth the veins of thee, wild, wild maiden. With hair that musters In globed clusters, In trumbling clusters, like swarthy grapes, Round thy brow and thine ears o’ershaden; With the burning darkness of eyes like pansies, Like velvet pansies Where through escapes The splendid might of thy conflagrate fancies; With robe gold-tawny not hiding the shapes Of the feet whereunto it falleth down, Thy naked feet unsandalled; With robe gold-tawny that does not veil Feet where the red Is meshed in the brown, Like a rubied sun in a Venice-sail.

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How strange and awful is the synthesis of life and death in the gusty winds and falling leaves of an autumnal day!

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However constant the visitations of sickness and bereavement, the fall of the year is most thickly strewn with the fall of human life. Everywhere the spirit of some sad power seems to direct the time; it hides from us the blue heavens, it makes the green wave turbid; it walks through the fields, and lays the damp ungathered harvest low; it cries out in the night wind and the shrill hail; it steals the summer bloom from the infant cheek; it makes old age shiver to the heart; it goes to the churchyard, and chooses many a grave.

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I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house. So I spend almost all the daylight hours in the open air.

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I LOVE THIS SEASON CUZ IT BRINGS SOCCER!!!!!!!!!!!

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I saw old Autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence, for no lonely bird would sing Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn, Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn;– Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright With tangled gossamer that fell by night, Pearling his coronet of golden corn.

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I saw old autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence.

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If winter is slumber and spring is birth, and summer is life, then autumn rounds out to be reflection. It’s a time of year when the leaves are down and the harvest is in and the perennials are gone. Mother Earth just closed up the drapes on another year and it’s time to reflect on what’s come before.

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If you do not sow in the spring you will not reap in the autumn.

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In the garden, Autumn is, indeed the crowning glory of the year, bringing us the fruition of months of thought and care and toil. And at no season, safe perhaps in Daffodil time, do we get such superb colour effects as from August to November.

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It was Autumn, and incessant Piped the quails from shocks and sheaves, And, like living coals, the apples Burned among the withering leaves.

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March is starting with an early taste of autumn.

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Now Autumn’s fire burns slowly along the woods, And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt, And night by night the monitory blast Wails in the key-hole, telling how it pass’d O’er empty fields, or upland solitudes, Or grim wide wave; and now the power is felt Of melancholy, tenderer in its moods Than any joy indulgent Summer dealt.

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O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit Beneath my shady roof; there thou mayest rest And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe, And all the daughters of the year shall dance! Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

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O suns and skies and clouds of June, and flowers of June together. Ye cannot rival for one hour October’s bright blue weather.

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O, it sets my heart a clickin’ like the tickin’ of a clock, When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

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October is a symphony of permanence and change.

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October”s poplars are flaming torches lighting the way to winter.

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