14 Famous Poems About The Seasons

Find inspiration in these famous poems celebrating the beauty of each season. These timeless, classic verses capture the ever-changing wonders of the seasons. The poems, while written years ago, continue to resonate with us even after many years.

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  1. Autumn Time
    Poet: Douglas Malloch

    The time is coming when the leaves
    Shall put away their garb of green
    And don the strange, fantastic weaves
    That color all the autumn scene.

  2. Make Me Mellow
    Poet: Douglas Malloch

    Some would have Spring within the heart,
    But I, some mellow month in mine
    Like old October: flowers depart,
    And even youth must resign -
    But always, brothers, there are some
    To whom no Winters ever come:
    Always October skies are theirs,
    Even amid life's wintry cares.

  3. Crumbs
    Poet: Patience Strong

    When the grass is stiff with frost, and Winter really comes -
    don't forget the birds -
    for they can do with all the crumbs -
    You'll see them waiting patiently, lined up along the fence -
    While you enjoy your breakfast they are waiting in suspense ....

  4. Later On
    Poet: Wilhelmina Stitch

    When it's winter, I shall look
    At a memory picture book.
    I shall look and I shall see
    Candles on a chestnut tree,
    Coral pink and waxy white -
    Won't they give a lovely light?

  5. Autumn Woods
    Poet: Nixon Waterman

    When skies are bright and fields are brown
    And autumn leaves come drifting down
    A girl or boy can find true joy
    In an ev'ry woodland way.

  6. Autumn In The Garden
    Poet: Henry VanDyke

    When the frosty kiss of Autumn in the dark
    Makes its mark
    On the flowers, and the misty morning grieves
    Over fallen leaves;
    Then my olden garden, where the golden soil
    Through the toil
    Of a hundred years is mellow, rich, and deep,
    Whispers in its sleep.

  7. Stern Winter
    Poet: Caleb Davis Bradlee

    Stern winter bids us all good cheer,
    With snowy robes so light,
    A priest it stands before us here,
    A priest all pure and bright.

  8. A Summer Morning
    Poet: Arthur Franklin Fuller

    First along the eastern sky
    A golden glow is seen —
    Clouds and shadows speed away,
    Grass and trees show green;
    Flowers and other vegetation,
    Yester-eve forlorn,
    Stand erect — a glad oration
    To the dew of morn.

  9. Spring, Summer, Autumn Poems
    Poet: Caleb Davis Bradlee

    The Spring has come, the blessed Spring,
    With secrets rich and deep;
    Glad tidings does it ever bring,
    Grand truths for all to keep.

  10. Children Of The Spring
    Poet: Douglas Malloch

    What means the Spring to you? -
    The tree, the bloom, the grass;
    Wide fields to wander through;
    A primrose path to pass;
    Bright sun, and skies of blue

  11. Spring Fever
    Poet: Douglas Malloch

    Not exactly lazy -
    Yet I want to sit
    In the momin' hazy
    An' jest dream a bit.
    Haven't got ambition
    Fer a single thing -
    Regaler condition
    Ev'ry bloomin' Spring.

    Want to sleep at noontime
    (Ought to work instead),
    But along at moontime
    Hate to go to bed.
    Find myself a-stealin'
    Fer a sunny spot -
    Jest that Springy feelin',
    That is what I've got.

    Like to set a-wishin'
    Fer a pipe an' book.
    Like to go a-fishin'
    In a meadow-brook
    With some fish deceiver,
    Underneath a tree -
    Jest the old Spring fever.
    That's what's ailing me!

  12. May
    Poet: Eloise A. Skimings

    How fragrant the balm laden air!
    All nature seems glad and gay;
    The birds warble their notes of praise.
    This glorious month of May.

    The trees, flowar-crowned, rejoice
    Since winter has lost his sway;
    Emblem of the resurrection,
    This flowery month of May.

    Then let us the Almighty praise,
    Who will wash our sins away,
    And clothe us with garbs of purity
    Like the trees this month of May,

  13. Winter
    Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy

    How cold it is, and dreary!
    The snow is on the ground;
    The chilly north wind bloweth
    With melancholy sound.
    The bright and dashing river,
    The pleasant, leaping rill,
    Are touched by Winter's finger,
    And now are smooth and still.

    The flowers that in the summer
    Were beautiful and bright,
    And forest-trees, have perished,
    With all that gave delight.
    Where'er we look around us,
    We see but stern decay:
    On plain, or in the valley,
    The glory's passed away.

  14. Here Again
    Poet: William Morris

    Slayer of the winter, art thou here again?
    Oh welcome, thou that bring'st the summer nigh!
    The bitter wind makes not thy victory vain,
    Nor will we mock thee for thy faint blue sky.
    Welcome, O March ! whose kindly days and dry
    Make April ready for the throstle's song,
    Thou first redresser of the winter's wrong!

    Yea, welcome March! and though I die ere June,
    Yet for the hope of life I give thee praise,
    Striving to swell the burden of the tune
    That even now I hear thy brown birds raise,
    Who sing, "O joy! a new year has begun:
    What happiness to look upon the sun!"

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