Explore "With what a Glory Comes and Goes the Year" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
With what a glory comes and goes the year! / The buds of spring, those beautiful harbingers / Of sunny skies and cloudless times, enjoy / Life's newness, and earth's garniture spread out; / And when the silver habit of the clouds / Comes down upon the autumn sun, and with / A sober gladness the old year takes up / His bright inheritance of golden fruits, / A pomp and pageant fill the splendid scene.
There is a beautiful spirit breathing now / Its mellow richness on the clustered trees, / And, from a beaker full of richest dyes, / Pouring new glory on the autumn woods, / And dipping in warm light the pillared clouds. / Morn on the mountain, like a summer bird, / Lifts up her purple wing, and in the vales / The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer, / Kisses the blushing leaf, and stirs up life / Within the solemn woods of ash deep-crimsoned, / And silver beech, and maple yellow-leaved, / Where Autumn, like a faint old man, sits down / By the wayside a-weary. Through the trees / The golden robin moves. The purple finch, / That on wild cherry and red cedar feeds, / A winter bird, comes with its plaintive whistle, / And pecks by the witch-hazel, whilst aloud / From cottage roofs the warbling blue-bird sings, / And merrily, with oft-repeated stroke, / Sounds from the threshing-floor the busy flail.