The Death of the Flowers
The melancholy days have come,
The saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds,
And naked woods,
And meadows brown and sere"

William Cullen Bryant 1794-1878

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.

-EMILY DICKINSON

I once new a man from Nantucket...

Sorry, I forgot the rest.