Poems in Honor of SpringFor winter's rains and ruins are over,And all the season of snows and sins;The days dividing lover and lover,The light that loses, the night that wins;And time remembered is grief forgotten,And frosts are slain and flowers begotten,And in green underwood and coverBlossom by blossom the spring begins. —Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837–1909)Summer PoetryBright was the summer's noon when quickening stepsFollowed each other till a dreary moorWas crossed, a bare ridge clomb, upon whose topStanding alone, as from a rampart's edge,I overlooked the bed of Windermere,Like a vast river, stretching in the sun. —William Wordsworth (1770–1850)Fall PoetryThe morns are meeker than they were,The nuts are getting brown;The berry's cheek is plumper,The rose is out of town. —Emily Dickinson (1830–1886)Winter VerseIn the bleak midwinterFrosty wind made moan,Earth stood hard as iron,Water like a stone;Snow had fallen, snow on snow,Snow on snow,In the bleak midwinter,Long ago. —Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)四个季节全有,这儿有详细资料: