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Autumn.

By Thomas Hood

Topics: classic

The Autumn is old,     The sere leaves are flying; -     He hath gather'd up gold,     And now he is dying; -     Old Age, begin sighing!     The vintage is ripe,     The harvest is heaping; -     But some that have sow'd     Have no riches for reaping; -     Poor wretch, fall a-weeping!     The year's in the wane,     There is nothing adorning,     The night has no eve,     And the day has no morning; -     Cold winter gives warning.     The rivers run chill,     The red sun is sinking,     And I am grown old,     And life is fast shrinking;     Here's enow for sad thinking!

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"The Autumn is old,..."

"Autumn." is a quintessential example of Thomas Hood's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...

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Author:Thomas Hood

"The Autumn is old,..." by Thomas Hood

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"The Text is taken from Percy's Reliques (1765), vol. i. p. 71, 'given from two MS. copies, transmitted from Scotland.' Herd had a very similar bal"

Thomas Hood

About Thomas Hood

Thomas Hood (1799–1845) was an English poet and humorist whose social protest poems "The Song of the Shirt" and "The Bridge of Sighs" drew attention to the plight of the poor. He was also a master of comic verse and wordplay.

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