To October
How bright, loved month, upon the fading brow
Of yonder hill, with melancholy air
Spreads thy sweet smile! How bright the hectic glow
Of dying beauty on thy cheek so fair!
The plaintive red-breast, midst the golden glare,
Soothes with his tender notes the parting year,
He sings as rosy May's soft blush were there;—
Ah, sure he knows not angry winter's near!
The lowering storm that quickly will be here,
Fluttering the beauties of thy chequer'd grove,
Rises unheeded, nor disturbs his cheer:
Sweet is his song as when each note was love,
And happier he than man, still doom'd to throw
O'er present joy the shade of future woe!
~~
William Curtis
from Poems, 1820
[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]
Photo: http://www.ForestWander.com, Autumn Trees, Cloudy Sky. CC BY-SA 3.0, Wikimedia Commons
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