William Wilfred Campbell (1861–1918)

BRIGHT, pallid, changing, chill October morn:

Across your windy, keen exhilarant air,

You loom, a cameo dream, a vision fair;

Where through your purples and mauves of skeleton trees,

Friezes of lingering foliage, russet browns,

And wine-like crimsons, flaming torches, gold

Of maples, beeches, sumachs, poplars, shine

The horn-like, cloudy windows of the sky.

Nothing on earth more beautiful than this:

To feel your glow, austere, of wintry flame,

Your exquisite, Greek infinities of colour;

And know that inward thrill, that Titan vision,

Once more, Atlantean; the marbled bay,

Th’ Olympian mountain, Saturn’s mighty crown;

And hear once more the Tritons sing, and know

Once more, immortal, Earth’s old godlike dream.