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  ...and mellow fruitfulness! Close bosom friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With, fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core. 127 KEATS: _To Autumn._
Divinest autumn! who may paint thee best, Forever changeful o'er the changeful globe? Who guess thy certain crown, thy favorite crest, The fashion of thy many-colored robe? 128 R.H. STODDARD: _Autumn._ Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.   129 ROBERT BROWNING: _Paracelsus,_ Sc. i.
The lands are lit With all the autumn blaze of Golden Rod; And everywhere the Purple Asters nod And bend and wave and flit. 130 HELEN HUNT: _Asters and Golden Rod._
I saw old Autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence, for no lonely bird would sing Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn, Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn. 131 HOOD: _Autumn._
=Avarice.=
The lust of gold succeeds...   Browning, Robert

Source: Paracelsus (sc. 1) · Excerpt from Handy Dictionary of Poetical Quotations · This quote is tagged Autumn · Search on Google Books to find all references and sources for this quotation.

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