James and Mary Ford, eds. Every Day in the Year. 1902.
October 1October
By Dinah Maria Mulock Craik (18261887)I
On dreamy summer eves,
When silently the timid moon
Kisses the sleeping leaves,
And all things through the fair hushed earth
Love, rest,—but nothing grieves.
Better I like old autumn,
With his hair tossed to and fro,
Firm striding o’er the stubble-fields
When the equinoctials blow.
Through misty mornings cold,
And robin on the orchard hedge
Sings cheerily and bold,
While heavily the frosted plum
Drops downward on the mold;
And as he passes autumn
Into earth’s lap does throw
Brown apples gay in a game of play,
As the equinoctials blow.
Into a humble psalm,
Asks no more for the pleasure draught,
But for the cup of balm,
And all its storms and sunshine bursts
Controls to one brave calm,—
Then step by step walks autumn,
With steady eyes that show
Nor grief nor fear, to the death of the year
While the equinoctials blow.