Wild music softens in thy hollow winds

3:06 PM Posted by James Owens






To Autumn

Come, pensive Autumn, with thy clouds, and storms,
And falling leaves, and pastures lost to flowers;
A luscious charm hangs on thy faded forms,
More sweet than Summer in her loveliest hours,
Who, in her blooming uniform of green,
Delights with samely and continued joy:
But give me, Autumn, where thy hand hath been,
For there is wildness that can never cloy, -
The russet hue of fields left bare, and all
The tints of leaves and blossoms ere they fall.
In thy dull days of clouds a pleasure comes,
Wild music softens in thy hollow winds,
And in thy fading woods a beauty blooms
That's more than dear to melancholy minds.

John Clare



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4 comments:

Roxana said...

did you take the pictures? :-)

Sorlil said...

I love that top picture, the great mass of yellow and the never-ending road.

James Owens said...

Roxana: Yes, I took the pictures, though I am ashamed for you to see them.... I kind of like the first, but the second is disappointing ... that day the trees were deep colors behind a lovely soft gauze of fog, but in the picture it just seems dull and faded....

James Owens said...

Sorlil: Thank you. You know, until I moved north, I never really understood Frost with "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood." Around here, and presumably in his part of the world, too, the woods in autumn really are yellow woods.