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Lyric Poem · Death & Loss

Autumn: A Dirge

by Percy Bysshe Shelley

The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing,

The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying,

And the Year

On the earth her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead,

Is lying.

Come, Months, come away,

From November to May,

In your saddest array;

Follow the bier

Of the dead cold Year,

And like dim shadows watch by her sepulchre.

The chill rain is falling, the nipped worm is crawling,

The rivers are swelling, the thunder is knelling

For the Year;

The blithe swallows are flown, and the lizards each gone

To his dwelling;

Come, Months, come away;

Put on white, black, and gray;

Let your light sisters play —

Ye, follow the bier

Of the dead cold Year,

And make her grave green with tear on tear.

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Quick facts

Poem
Autumn: A Dirge
Poet
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Length
22 lines
Form
Lyric Poem
Themes
Death & Loss, Nature, Autumn

Craft notes

How this poem works

Measured from the text on this page, not copied from a summary. Counts are approximate: syllables and rhymes come from the CMU Pronouncing Dictionary, which models General American English, so dialect, older pronunciation, and performance can all change what you hear.

Shape
22 lines · 2 stanzas of 11 lines
Refrains
Come, Months, come away,Of the dead cold Year,Come, Months, come away;Repeated lines act as the poem's hinge or drumbeat.

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Text, source & rights

A traceable edition

Full-text display is based on the committed source record and a United States term-expiry review.

Author record
Percy Bysshe Shelley1792–1822
Source record
PoetryDBAutumn: A Dirge by percy-bysshe-shelley, PoetryDB transcription
Display decision
Full text · United States · reviewed 2026-07-18
Publication record
Not recorded in the imported source
Text fingerprint
SHA-256 389bb0645e183c86
Editorial handling
Whitespace and stanza breaks normalized for web display; no material wording change recorded.
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