O hushed October morning mild, <br />Thy leaves have ripened to the fall; <br />Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild, <br />Should waste them all. <br />The crows above the forest call; <br />Tomorrow they may form and go. <br />O hushed October morning mild, <br />Begin the hours of this day slow. <br />Make the day seem to us less brief. <br />Hearts not averse to being beguiled, <br />Beguile us in the way you know. <br />Release one leaf at break of day; <br />At noon release another leaf; <br />One from our trees, one far away. <br />Retard the sun with gentle mist; <br />Enchant the land with amethyst. <br />Slow, slow! <br />For the grapes' sake, if the were all, <br />Whose elaves already are burnt with frost, <br />Whose clustered fruit must else be lost-- <br />For the grapes' sake along the all.<br /><br />Robert Lee Frost<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/october-5/
