The Four Seasons Of The Year. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABBAACCBBDDEEFFGGFFH HBBFFFFIJGGKLFFMNOOO OEEFFFFPPGGBBFFGGFFG EBBGGFFCCQQGGFFCCQQF FBBBBEBBRRBBBBBBGGEE GGEEFGGGGGSSTFFFGGGG FFGGFFQQEEEEQQBBGGBB FFGGFFQQUGGGFFFFFFUU FFFFBBVVBQQBBGGGGCCF FWWC| Spring | A |
| Another four I've left yet to bring on | B |
| Of four times four the last Quaternion | B |
| The Winter Summer Autumn the Spring | A |
| In season all these Seasons I shall bring | A |
| Sweet Spring like man in his Minority | C |
| At present claim'd and had priority | C |
| With smiling face and garments somewhat green | B |
| She trim'd her locks which late had frosted been | B |
| Nor hot nor cold she spake but with a breath | D |
| Fit to revive the nummed earth from death | D |
| Three months quoth she are 'lotted to my share | E |
| March April May of all the rest most fair | E |
| Tenth of the first Sol into Aries enters | F |
| And bids defiance to all tedious winters | F |
| Crosseth the Line and equals night and day | G |
| Stil adds to th'last til after pleasant May | G |
| And now makes glad the darkned northern wights | F |
| Who for some months have seen but starry lights | F |
| Now goes the Plow man to his merry toyle | H |
| He might unloose his winter locked soyl | H |
| The Seeds man too doth lavish out his grain | B |
| In hope the more he casts the more to gain | B |
| The Gardner now superfluous branches lops | F |
| And poles erects for his young clambring hops | F |
| Now digs then sowes his herbs his flowers roots | F |
| And carefully manures his trees of fruits | F |
| The Pleiades their influence now give | I |
| And all that seem'd as dead afresh doth live | J |
| The croaking frogs whom nipping winter kil'd | G |
| Like birds now chirp and hop about the field | G |
| The Nightingale the black bird and the Thrush | K |
| Now tune their layes on sprayes of every bush | L |
| The wanton frisking Kid and soft fleec'd Lambs | F |
| Do jump and play before their feeding Dams | F |
| The tender tops of budding grass they crop | M |
| They joy in what they have but more in hope | N |
| For though the frost hath lost his binding power | O |
| Yet many a fleece of snow and stormy shower | O |
| Doth darken Sol's bright eye makes us remember | O |
| The pinching North west wind of cold December | O |
| My second moneth is April green and fair | E |
| Of longer dayes and a more temperate Air | E |
| The Sun in Taurus keeps his residence | F |
| And with his warmer beams glanceth from thence | F |
| This is the month whose fruitful showrs produces | F |
| All set and sown for all delights and uses | F |
| The Pear the Plum and Apple tree now flourish | P |
| The grass grows long the hungry beast to nourish | P |
| The Primrose pale and azure violet | G |
| Among the virduous grass hath nature set | G |
| That when the Sun on's Love the earth doth shine | B |
| These might as lace set out her garment fine | B |
| The fearfull bird his little house now builds | F |
| In trees and walls in Cities and in fields | F |
| The outside strong the inside warm and neat | G |
| A natural Artificer compleat | G |
| The clocking hen her chirping chickins leads | F |
| With wings beak defends them from the gleads | F |
| My next and last is fruitfull pleasant May | G |
| Wherein the earth is clad in rich aray | E |
| The Sun now enters loving Gemini | B |
| And heats us with the glances of his eye | B |
| Our thicker rayment makes us lay aside | G |
| Lest by his fervor we be torrifi'd | G |
| All flowers the Sun now with his beams discloses | F |
| Except the double pinks and matchless Roses | F |
| Now swarms the busy witty honey Bee | C |
| VVhose praise deserves a page from more then me | C |
| The cleanly Huswifes Dary's now in th'prime | Q |
| Her shelves and firkins fill'd for winter time | Q |
| The meads with Cowslips Honey suckles dight | G |
| One hangs his head the other stands upright | G |
| But both rejoyce at th'heavens clear smiling face | F |
| More at her showers which water them a space | F |
| For fruits my Season yields the early Cherry | C |
| The hasty Peas and wholsome cool Strawberry | C |
| More solid fruits require a longer time | Q |
| Each Season hath his fruit so hath each Clime | Q |
| Each man his own peculiar excellence | F |
| But none in all that hath preheminence | F |
| Sweet fragrant Spring with thy short pittance fly | B |
| Let some describe thee better then can I | B |
| Yet above all this priviledg is thine | B |
| Thy dayes still lengthen without least decline | B |
| Summer | E |
| When Spring had done the Summer did begin | B |
| With melted tauny face and garments thin | B |
| Resembling Fire Choler and Middle age | R |
| As Spring did Air Blood Youth in's equipage | R |
| Wiping the sweat from of her face that ran | B |
| With hair all wet she puffing thus began | B |
| Bright June July and August hot are mine | B |
| In'th first Sol doth in crabbed Cancer shine | B |
| His progress to the North now's fully done | B |
| Then retrograde must be my burning Sun | B |
| Who to his southward Tropick still is bent | G |
| Yet doth his parching heat but more augment | G |
| Though he decline because his flames so fair | E |
| Have throughly dry'd the earth and heat the air | E |
| Like as an Oven that long time hath been heat | G |
| Whose vehemency at length doth grow so great | G |
| That if you do withdraw her burning store | E |
| Tis for a time as fervent as before | E |
| Now go those frolick Swains the Shepherd Lads | F |
| To wash the thick cloth'd flocks with pipes full glad | G |
| In the cool streams they labour with delight | G |
| Rubbing their dirty coats till they look white | G |
| Whose fleece when finely spun and deeply dy'd | G |
| With Robes thereof Kings have been dignifi'd | G |
| Blest rustick Swains your pleasant quiet life | S |
| Hath envy bred in Kings that were at strife | S |
| Careless of worldly wealth you sing and pipe | T |
| Whilst they'r imbroyl'd in wars troubles rise | F |
| VVhich made great Bajazet cry out in's woes | F |
| Oh happy shepherd which hath not to lose | F |
| Orthobulus nor yet Sebastia great | G |
| But whist'leth to thy flock in cold and heat | G |
| Viewing the Sun by day the Moon by night | G |
| Endimions Dianaes dear delight | G |
| Upon the grass resting your healthy limbs | F |
| By purling Brooks looking how fishes swims | F |
| If pride within your lowly Cells ere haunt | G |
| Of him that was Shepherd then King go vaunt | G |
| This moneth the Roses are distil'd in glasses | F |
| VVhose fragrant smel all made perfumes surpasses | F |
| The Cherry Gooseberry are now in th'prime | Q |
| And for all sorts of Pease this is the time | Q |
| July my next the hott'st in all the year | E |
| The sun through Leo now takes his Career | E |
| VVhose flaming breath doth melt us from afar | E |
| Increased by the star Canicular | E |
| This Month from Julius C sar took its name | Q |
| By Romans celebrated to his fame | Q |
| Now go the Mowers to their slashing toyle | B |
| The Meadowes of their riches to dispoyle | B |
| VVith weary strokes they take all in their way | G |
| Bearing the burning heat of the long day | G |
| The forks and Rakes do follow them amain | B |
| VVhich makes the aged fields look young again | B |
| The groaning Carts do bear away this prize | F |
| To Stacks and Barns where it for Fodder lyes | F |
| My next and last is August fiery hot | G |
| For much the Southward Sun abateth not | G |
| This Moneth he keeps with Virgo for a space | F |
| The dryed Earth is parched with his face | F |
| August of great Augustus took its name | Q |
| Romes second Emperour of lasting fame | Q |
| With sickles now the bending Reapers goe | U |
| The russling tress of terra down to mowe | G |
| And bundles up in sheaves the weighty wheat | G |
| Which after Manchet makes for Kings to eat | G |
| The Barly Rye and Pease should first had place | F |
| Although their bread have not so white a face | F |
| The Carter leads all home with whistling voyce | F |
| He plow'd with pain but reaping doth rejoyce | F |
| His sweat his toyle his careful wakeful nights | F |
| His fruitful Crop abundantly requites | F |
| Now's ripe the Pear Pear plumb and Apricock | U |
| The prince of plumbs whose stone's as hard as Rock | U |
| The Summer seems but short the Autumn hasts | F |
| To shake his fruits of most delicious tasts | F |
| Like good old Age whose younger juicy Roots | F |
| Hath still ascended to bear goodly fruits | F |
| Until his head be gray and strength be gone | B |
| Yet then appears the worthy deeds he'th done | B |
| To feed his boughs exhausted hath his sap | V |
| Then drops his fruits into the eaters lap | V |
| Autumn | B |
| Of Autumn moneths September is the prime | Q |
| Now day and night are equal in each Clime | Q |
| The twelfth of this Sol riseth in the Line | B |
| And doth in poizing Libra this month shine | B |
| The vintage now is ripe the grapes are prest | G |
| Whose lively liquor oft is curs'd and blest | G |
| For nought so good but it may be abused | G |
| But its a precious juice when well its used | G |
| The raisins now in clusters dryed be | C |
| The Orange Lemon dangle on the tree | C |
| The Pomegranate the Fig are ripe also | F |
| And Apples now their yellow sides do show | F |
| Of Almonds Quinces Wardens and of Peach | W |
| The season's now at hand of all and each | W |
| Sure at this time t | C |
Anne Bradstreet
(1)
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About The Four Seasons Of The Year.
The Four Seasons Of The Year. is a poem by Anne Bradstreet. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.