So, winter is coming and I yet in my sickness. Yet pleasant here, the leaves thick-falling, the ground brown with them already rich coloring, all set in and toned down by the prevailing brown of the earth and gray of the sky. That delicate, transparent blue, peculiar to autumn.Ĭloudy and coolish signs of incipient winter, The hillside late in autumn, the hues of red, yellow, drab, purple, and light and dark green, Pleasantly over the autumn fields shone the November sun, The migrating flock of wild geese alighting in autumn to refresh themselves, to bask in the autumn sun. Hot October noon! flooding with sheeny light the gray beach sand, I saw the first palpable frost, on my sunrise walk, October,Īll over the yet-green spread a light blue-gray veil, giving a new show to the entire landscape,Īs I returned along the lane it had turn’d to glittering patches of wet. In the stillness in the autumn moonbeams his face was inclined toward me. Out of the Ninth-month midnight pour’d over all the September breeze,Īnd the one I love most lay sleeping by me in the cool night, To the music of rustling leaves kick’d by my feet. Musing late in the autumn day, gazing off southward, Indian summer-a jaunt, a long, slow, easy ramble, I jump from the cross-beams and seize the clover and timothy,Īnd roll head over heels and tangle my hair full of wisps. I felt its soft jolts, one leg reclined on the other, I am there, I help, I came stretch’d atop of the load, The armfuls are pack’d to the sagging mow. The clear light plays on the brown gray and green intertinged, The dried grass of the harvest-time loads the slow-drawn wagon, The ample door of the peaceful country barn stands open and ready, Melon patches, with their bulging ovals, and great silver-streak’d, ruffled, broad-edged leaves,Īnd many an autumn sight and sound beside. The great plumes, the ears well-envelop’d in their husks, all now turn’d dingy.Ī large field spotted thick with scarlet-gold pumpkins, The corn, stack’d in its cone-shaped stacks, russet-color’d and sere, Now I awhile retire to thee O soil of autumn fields, and gathering the corn, Now mellow, crisp autumn days, bright moonlight nights, Of the turbid pool that lies in the autumn forest, and of hay in the barn? The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, Smell you the blossoming buckwheat fields, where the Ninth-month bees were lately buzzing, I took up three great bunches, each as big as my fist, ) (The grapes are very good and plenty this year, Smell you the smell of the grapes on the vines? Juicy autumnal fruit ripe and red from the orchard,Īpples ripe in the orchards hang and grapes on the trellis’d vines. Yellows of all hues, pale and dark-green, shades from the lightest to richest red,Ĭool and sweeten villages with leaves fluttering in the moderate wind. The trees, deeper green, yellower and redder, The woods are a real spectacle, colored with all the rich colors of autumn. The river and bay get more and more beautiful, under these skies resplendent in September beauty. Now the delicious September has set in, balmy cool,
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