IN OCTOBERBy John BurroughsNow comes the sunset of the verdant year,Chemic fires, still and slow,Burn in the leaves, till trees and groves appearDipped in the sunset’s glow.

Through many-stained windows of the woodThe day sends down its beams,Till all the acorn-punctured solitudeOf sunshine softly dreams.

I take my way where sentry cedars standAlong the bushy lane,And whitethroats stir and call on every hand,Or lift their wavering strain;The hazel-bush holds up its crinkled goldAnd scents the loit’ring breeze—A nuptial wreath amid its leafage oldThat laughs at frost’s decrees.

A purple bloom is creeping o’er the ash—Dull wine against the day,While dusky cedars wear a crimson sashOf woodbine’s kindled spray.

I see the stolid oak tree’s smould’ring fireSullen against emerald rye;And yonder sugar maple’s wild desireTo match the sunset sky.

On hedge and tree the bittersweet has hungIts fruit that looks a flower;While alder spray with coral berries strungIs part of autumn’s dower.

The plaintive calls of bluebirds fill the air,Wand’ring voices in the morn;The ruby kinglet, flitting here and there,Winds again his elfin horn.

Now Downy shyly drills his winter cell,His white chips strew the ground;While squirrels bark from hill or acorned dell—A true autumnal sound.

I hear the feathered thunder of the grouseSoft rolling through the wood,Or pause to note where hurrying mole or mouseJust stirs the solitude.

Anon the furtive flock-call of the quailComes up from weedy fields;Afar the mellow thud of lonely flailIts homely music yields.

Behold the orchards piled with painted spheresNew plucked from bending trees;And bronzèd huskers tossing golden earsIn genial sun and breeze.

Once more the tranquil days brood o’er the hills,And soothe earth’s toiling breast;A benediction all the landscape fillsThat breathes of peace and rest.

【英文诗歌300首 IN OCTOBER查看网站：[db:时间]】