“The skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crispèd and sere— The leaves they were withering and sere: It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year. Edgar Allan Poe
“And thus I clothe my naked villany With odd old ends stol’n forth of holy writ, And seem a saint when most I play the devil. William Shakespeare
“Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful jollity, Quips and cranks and wanton wiles, Nods and becks and wreathed smiles. John Milton