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— Lucy Larcom"To her bier Comes the year Not with weeping and distress, as mortals do, But, to guide her way to it, All the trees have torches lit; Blazing red the maples shine the woodlands through."
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Cold autumn, wan with wrath of wind and rain, Saw pass a soul sweet as the sovereign tune That death smote silent when he smote again.
— Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Why I so much prefer autumn to spring is that in the autumn one looks at heaven--in the spring at the earth.
— Soren Kierkegaard
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