Since Autumn is coming for some of us and that Blake wrote good poems, here's one:
To Autumn
O Autumn! laden with fruit, and stained with the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit.
Beaneath my shady roof, there thou may'st 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.
'The narrow bud opens her beauties to
The sun and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of morning, and
Flourish down the bright cheek of modest eve,
Till clustering summer breaks froth into singing,
And feathered clouds strew flowers round her head.'
'The spirits of the air live on the smells
Of fruit; and joy, with pinions light,
roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.'
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat;
Then rose, girded himself, and o'ver the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load
William Blake.
I think he talked about cherishing the golden moments in life and enjoying autumn while it is here.
What do u think?
