BENEATH October's paling sun how fair The wild-wood flowers in harvest beauty wait! The brier-rose berries hang in coral state; The goldenrods their soft gray plumelets wear; Clusters of down the meek immortelles bear; The asters, bright with purple bloom so late, To feathery stars have turned at touch of fate; And all are winged and waiting for the air. Immortal Beauty! gold and purple still Glow in each seed the south wind wafts away, That glade and bank and lonely nook and hill Through summer suns may shine in rich array: Not June's red rose the heart with joy can thrill Like these winged florets, this October day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HEROD'S LAMENT FOR MARIAMNE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TO THE MEMORY OF BEN JONSON by JOHN CLEVELAND ON THE DEATH OF MRS. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON'S BULLFINCH by WILLIAM COWPER THE JESTER'S SERMON by GEORGE WALTER THORNBURY THALIA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 28. AS-BAZIR by EDWIN ARNOLD HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 19 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |