Have they that "green and yellow melancholy"
That the sweet poet spake of? Had he seen
Our variegated woods, when first the frost
Turns into beauty all October's charms—
...With a bright bow of many colours hung
Upon the forest tops—he had not sigh'd...."
Our trees are beginning their sorrow-sweet tinting and thinning here as well. thank-you for sharing these beauts of photo and poem...love the second stanza too;ReplyDelete
The trees cast down their fruitage, and the blithe
And busy squirrel hoards his winter store:
While man enjoys the breeze that sweeps along
The bright blue sky above him, and that bends
Magnificently all the forest's pride
Yes! Part of the delight in compiling this blog is the search for lovely phrases to accompany, and thus the finding - or sometimes re-finding - of poems that just beg to be read aloud for sheer pleasure - how can you read 'and the blithe and busy squirrel' and not smile to see him in your imagination!Delete