"The sweet calm sunshine of October, now
Warms the low
spot; upon its grassy mold
The purple oak-leaf falls; the birchen bough
drops its bright
spoil like arrow-heads of gold."
- William Cullen
Bryant
"Across the land a faint blue veil of mist
Seems hung; the woods wear yet arrayment sober
Till frost shall make them flame; silent and whist
The drooping cherry orchards of October
Like mournful pennons hang their shriveling leaves
Russet and orange: all things now decay;
Long since ye garnered in your autumn sheaves,
And sad the robins pipe at set of day."
- Siegfried Sassoon,
October
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