Autumn Poetry

“Fresh October brings the pheasant,

Then to gather nuts is pleasant.
Dull November brings the blast,
Then the leaves are whirling fast.”
~Anonymous


“Then came October full of merry glee.”
~Edmund Spenser


“Now Autumn’s fire burns slowly along the woods,
And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt,
And night by night the monitory blast
Wails in the keyhole, telling how it pass’d,
O’er empty fields, or upland solitudes,
Or grim, wide wave, and now the power is felt
Of melancholy, tenderer in it’s moods,
Than any joy indulgent summer dealt.”
~William Allingham


To Autumn
“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all frit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel, to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the Bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimmed their clammy cells.”
~J. Keats