Poetry Sunday: October by Robert Frost
We've been having very mild and pleasant weather over the past week. It's almost as if fall is actually here.
October is, in fact, right near the top of my favorite months list. It is generally a time of mild days and relatively cool nights. The temperature actually got down to 59 degrees Fahrenheit one night last week.
Robert Frost celebrated such days in this poem which he titled, simply, "October"; the days seem all too brief and we long for them to linger, and in the early morning the sun is shrouded by a "gentle mist." It will be many weeks yet until our leaves are "burnt with frost." We will enjoy October while we can. Maybe even into November.
October
by Robert Frost
O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—
For the grapes’ sake along the wall.
October
by Robert Frost
O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—
For the grapes’ sake along the wall.
Living in the North, I can so identify with this poem. Last night we had our first frost advisory. We did not get it, but the chill is in the air, and I believe we will have our first frost by Thursday morning.
ReplyDeleteAt the first game of the American League Championship series last night, our Astros were all wearing their cold weather gear with temperatures in the 40s. Yes, that definitely seems like frost is on the way soon in Boston and certainly farther north where you are.
DeleteIt is like October is a pause moment in the circle of seasons and Frost captures that.
ReplyDeleteThat was his forte - capturing the beauty of the cycles of Nature.
DeleteJust lovely! :-) Being in New England I can understand his images the way he intended. ;-)
ReplyDeleteYou are ideally placed to understand and appreciate his poetry.
DeleteLucky me! ;-)
Delete