Poems (May)/October twilight
OCTOBER TWILIGHT.
Oh mute among the months, October, thou,Like a hot reaper when the sun goes down Reposing in the twilight of the year! Is yon the silver glitter of thy scythe Drawn thread-like on the west? September comes Humming those waifs of song June's choral days Left in the forest, but thy tuneless lips Breathe only a pervading haze that seems Visible silence, and thy Sabbath face Scares swart November, from yon northern hills Foreboding like a raven. Yellow ferns Make thee a couch; thou sittest listless there,Plucking red leaves for idleness; full streams Coil to thy feet where fawns that come at noon Drink with upglancing eyes. Drink with upglancing eyes.Upon this knoll, Studded with long-stemmed maples, ever first To take the breeze, I have lain summer hours, Seeing the blue sky only, and the light Shifting from leaf to leaf. Tree-top and trunk Now lift so steadily, the airiest spray Seems painted on the azure. Evening comes Up from the valley; over-lapping hills, Tipped by the sunset, burn like funeral lamps For the dead day; no pomp of tinsel clouds Breaks the pure hyaline the mountains gird—A gem without a flaw—but sharply drawn On its transparent edge, a single tree That has cast down its drapery of leaves, Stands like an athlete with broad arms outstretched,As if to keep November's winds at bay. Below, on poised wings, a hovering mist Follows the course of streams; the air grows thick Over the dells. Mark how the wind, like one That gathers simples, flits from herb to herb, Through the damp valley, muttering the while Low incantations! From the wooded lanes Loiters a bell's dull tinkle, keeping time To the slow tread of kine; and I can see By the rude trough the waters overbrim The unyoked oxen gathered; some, athirst,Stoop drinking steadily, and some have linked Their horns in playful war. Roads climb the hills, Divide the forests, and break off, abrupt, At the horizon; hither, from below There comes a sound of lumbering, jarring wheels,The sound just struggles up the steep ascent, Then drones off in the distance. Nearer still, A rifle's rattling charge starts up the echoes,That flutter like scared birds, and pause awhile As on suspended wings, ere sinking slow To their low nests. I can distinguish now The labourer returning from his toil With shouldered spade, and weary, laggard foot; The cattle straying down the dusty road; The sportsman, balancing his idle gun,Whistling a light refrain, while close beside His hound with trailing ears, and muzzle dropt, Follows some winding scent. From the gray east, Twilight, up-glancing with dim fearful eyes, Warns me away. Warns me away.The dusk sits like a bird Up in the tree-tops, and swart, elvish shadows Dart from the wooded pathways. Wraith of day! Through thy transparent robes the stars are plain; Along those swelling mounds that look like graves,Where flowers grow thick in June, thy step falls soft As the dropt leaves; amid the faded brakes The wind, retreating, hides, and cowering there, Whines at thy coming like a hound afraid.