Seasons

"January grey is here, Like a sexton by her grave; February bears the bier, March with grief doth howl and rave, And April weeps—but, O ye hours! Follow with Mays fairest flowers."

"Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee, Whether the summer clothe the general earth With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch Smokes in the sunthaw; whether the eve-drops fall, Heard only in the trances of the blast, Or if the secret ministry of frost Shall hang them up in silent icicles, Quietly shining to the quiet moon."

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace."

"Autumn to winter, winter into spring, Spring into summer, summer into fall.— So rolls the changing year, and so we change; Motion so swift, we know not that we move."

"Our seasons have no fixed returns, Without our will they come and go; At noon our sudden summer burns, Ere sunset all is snow."

"Ah! well away! Seasons flower and fade."