October / Elinor Wylie

October

Elinor Wylie (1885-1928), 1921.

Wikimedia Commons.

Beauty has a tarnished dress,
And a patchwork cloak of cloth
Dipped deep in mournfulness,
Striped like a moth.

Wet grass where it trails
Dyes it green along the hem;
She has seven silver veils
With cracked bells on them.

She is tired of all these –
Grey gauze, translucent lawn;
The broad cloak of Herakles
Is tangled flame and fawn.

Water and light are wearing thin:
She has drawn above her head
The warm enormous lion skin
Rough red and gold.

~~~
Elinor Wylie (1885-1928}
from Last Poems, 1943

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada and the European Union]

Elinor Wylie biography 

The Trees at Night / William Kerr

The Trees at Night

Under vague silver moonlight
The trees are lovely and ghostly,
In the pale blue of the night
There are few stars to see.

The leaves are green still, but brown-blent:
They stir not, only known
By a poignant delicate scent
To the lonely moon blown.

The lonely lovely trees sigh
For summer spent and gone:
A few homing leaves drift by,
Poor souls bewildered and wan.

~~~
William Kerr
from Georgian Poetry, 1920-1922, 1922

[Poem is in the public domain in the United States]

William Kerr biography

Autumn / George Sterling

Autumn

Now droops the troubled year
And now her tiny sunset stains the leaf.
A holy fear,
A rapt, elusive grief,
Make imminent the swift, exalting tear.

The long wind's weary sigh —
Knowest, O listener! for what it wakes?
Adown the sky
What star of Time forsakes
Her pinnacle? What dream and dreamer die?

A presence half-divine
Stands at the threshold, ready to depart
Without a sign.
Now seems the world's deep heart
About to break. What sorrow stirs in mine?

A mist of twilight rain
Hides now the orange edges of the day.
In vain, in vain
We labor that thou stay,
Beauty who wast, and shalt not be again!

~~
George Sterling (1869-1926)
From The House of Orchids, and other poems, 1911

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

George Sterling biography

"Autumn" read for LibriVox. Courtesy LibriVox Audiobooks.

These are the days when Birds come back / Emily Dickinson

These are the days when Birds come back —
A very few — a Bird or two —
To take a backward look.

These are the days when skies resume
The old — old sophistries of June —
A blue and gold mistake.

Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee —
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief.

Till ranks of seeds their witness bear —
And softly thro' the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf.

Oh Sacrament of summer days,
Oh Last Communion in the Haze —
Permit a child to join.

Thy sacred emblems to partake —
They consecrated bread to take
And thine immortal wine!

~~

Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Emily Dickinson biography

"These are the days when Birds come back" courtesy Madhumangal Das.

Penny's Top 20 - September 2011

The 20 most-visited poems on  The Penny Blog during September 2011:

  1.  November, F.W. Harvey 
  2.  Esthétique du Mal, Wallace Stevens 
  3.  Penny (or Penny's Hat), George Dance
  4.  Songs, Demonspawn
  5.  Oxford Cheese Ode, James McIntyre

  6.  Ganesha Girl on Rankin, Will Dockery
  7.  Large Red Man Reading, Wallace Stevens
  8.  Summer Evening, Walter de la Mare
  9,  Moonlight and Common Day, Louise Morey Bowman
10.  September Night, George Dance

11.  Lorelei's Song / Das Loreleylied, Heinrich Heine
12.  The Man with the Blue Guitar, Wallace Stevens
13.  Daily News, George Dance
14.  Autumn Evening, Frances Cornford
15.  The Reader, Wallace Stevens

16.  A Duet, T. Sturge Moore
17.  Lucky Penny, George Dance
18.  In the Shadows, Pauline Johnson
19.  Talking in their Sleep, Edith M. Thomas
20.  Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction, Wallace Stevens

Source: Blogger, "Stats"

The October Redbreast / Alice Meynell

The October Redbreast

Autumn is weary, halt, and old;
     Ah, but she owns the song of joy!
Her colours fade, her woods are cold.
     Her singing-bird’s a boy, a boy.

In lovely Spring the birds were bent
     On nests, on use, on love, forsooth!
Grown-up were they. This boy’s content,
     For his is liberty, his is youth.

The musical stripling sings for play
     Taking no thought, and virgin-glad.
For duty sang those mates in May.
     This singing-bird’s a lad, a lad.

~~
Alice Meynell (1847-1922)
from Last Poems, 1923 

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada and the European Union]

Alice Meynell biography

World-Strangeness / William Watson

World-Strangeness

Strange the world about me lies,
     Never yet familiar grown —
Still disturbs me with surprise,
     Haunts me like a face half known.

In this house with starry dome,
     Floored with gemlike plains and seas,
Shall I never feel at home,
     Never wholly be at ease?

On from room to room I stray,
     Yet my Host can ne'er espy,
And I know not to this day
     Whether guest or captive I.

So, between the starry dome
     And the floor of plains and seas,
I have never felt at home,
     Never wholly been at ease.

~~
William Watson (1858-1935)
from Poems, 1893

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

William Watson biography

"World-Srangeness" composed by Ivor Gurney, sung by Marcus Farnsworth.