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The Weblog at The View from the Core - Fri. 09/19/08 08:04:43 AM
   
         
         
   

"September"

The golden-rod is yellow;
   The corn is turning brown;
The trees in apple orchards
   With fruit are bending down.

The gentian's bluest fringes
   Are curling in the sun;
In dusty pods the milkweed
   Its hidden silk has spun.

The sedges flaunt their harvest,
   In every meadow nook;
And asters by the brook-side
   Make asters in the brook.

From dewy lanes at morning
   The grapes' sweet odors rise;
At noon the roads all flutter
   With yellow butterflies.

By all these lovely tokens
   September days are here,
With summer's best of weather,
   And autumn's best of cheer.

But none of all this beauty
   Which floods the earth and air
Is unto me the secret
   Which makes September fair.

'T is a thing which I remember;
   To name it thrills me yet:
One day of one September
   I never can forget.

Helen Hunt Jackson (1830-1885)

American Poetry: The Nineteenth Century (1993), ed. John Hollander, Volume Two, p. 225.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Fri. 09/19/08 08:04:43 AM
Categorized as Literary.

   
         
         

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Cor ad cor loquitur J. H. Newman — “Heart speaks to heart”