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Daily Archives: October 13, 2012

Quotes for october SEND ONE NOW

 

  

“In the garden, Autumn is, indeed the crowning glory of the year, bringing us the fruition of months of thought 

and care and toil.  And at no season, safe perhaps in Daffodil time, do we get such superb colour effects as
from August to November.”
–   Rose G. Kingsley, The Autumn Garden

 

 

“I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
Stand, shadowless like Silence, listening
To Silence.”
–   Thomas Hood

 

 

“He is outside of everything, and alien everywhere. He is an aesthetic solitary. His beautiful, light imagination
is the wing that on the autumn evening just brushes the dusky window.”
–   Henry James  

 

 

“I have come to a still, but not a deep center,
A point outside the glittering current;
My eyes stare at the bottom of a river,
At the irregular stones, iridescent sandgrains,
My mind moves in more than one place,
In a country half-land, half-water.
I am renewed by death, thought of my death,
The dry scent of a dying garden in September,
The wind fanning the ash of a low fire.
What I love is near at hand,
Always, in earth and air.”
–  Theodore Roethke, The Far Field    

 

 

“Corn and grain, corn and grain,
All that falls shall rise again.”
–  Wiccan Harvest Chant

 

 

“Just before the death of flowers,
And before they are buried in snow,
There comes a festival season
When nature is all aglow.”
–   Author Unknown

 

 

“There is no season when such pleasant and sunny spots may be lighted on, and produce so pleasant an effect on
the feelings, as now in October.”
–  Nathaniel Hawthorne

 

 

“Spring comes with flowers, autumn with the moon, summer with the breeze, winter with snow.  When idle
concerns don’t fill your thoughts, that’s your best season.”
–   Wu-Men

 

 

“A child looking at ruins grows younger
but cold
and wants to wake to a new name
I have been younger in October
than in all the months of spring
walnut and may leaves the color
of shoulders at the end of summer
a month that has been to the mountain
and become light there
the long grass lies pointing uphill
even in death for a reason
that none of us knows
and the wren laughs in the early shade now
come again shining glance in your good time
naked air late morning
my love is for lightness
of touch foot feather
the day is yet one more yellow leaf
and without turning I kiss the light
by an old well on the last of the month
gathering wild rose hips
in the sun.”
–   W. S. Merwin,  
The Love of October

 

 

“The sweet calm sunshine of October, now
Warms the low spot; upon its grassy mold
The pur0ple oak-leaf falls; the birchen bough
drops its bright spoil like arrow-heads of gold.”
–   William Cullen Bryant

 

 

“The clump of maples on the hill,
And this one near the door,
Seem redder, quite a lot, this year
Than last, or year before;
I wonder if it’s jest because
I Love the Old State more!”
–   David L. Cady, October in Vermont  

 

 

“The scarlet of maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
to see the frosty asters like smoke
upon the hills.”
–   William Bliss Carman  

 

 

“My tidings for you: the stag bells,
Winter snows, Summer is gone.

Wind high and cold, low the sun,
Short his course, sea running high.

Deep-red the bracken, its shape all gone,
The wild goose has raised his wonted cry.

Cold has caught the wings of birds.
Season of ice – these are my tidings.”
–  Irish Poem, Translated by Caitlin Matthews  

 

“The leaves fall patiently
Nothing remembers or grieves
The river takes to the sea
The yellow drift of leaves.”
–   Sara Teasdale

 

 

“Youth is like spring, an over-praised season more remarkable for biting winds than genial breezes.
Autumn is the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers we more than gain in fruits.”
–   Samuel Butler

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O AUTUMN ANALYSIS – Your Favourite poem

I
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 the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit 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-brimm’d their clammy cells.

II
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

III
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,–
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

By John keats

Autumn By Malcolm Bradshaw

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