Tuesday, September 01, 2009


To Autumn
by William Blake

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stain'd
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may'st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

'The narrow bud opens her beauties to
The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of Morning, and
Flourish down the bright cheek of modest Eve,
Till clust'ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
And feather'd clouds strew flowers round her head.

'The spirits of the air live in the smells
Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.'
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat,
Then rose, girded himself, and o'er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

Join me with a hot cuppa, in jubilant celebration as autumn draws ever so near.

:-) R


ChaChaneen said...

I lurve this time if year too! Such a lovely poem too, you always have lovely things to share here and that's why I love visiting your blog!

Oh what a hoot, the word verif is dishes! Lol

willow said...

This cool air is making me excited for fall! Bring it on!!!

Lady Katherine said...

Lovely poem, and I am so happy to enjoy the autumn. Drinking my cuppa Tea

Pamela Terry and Edward said...

Isn't it wonderful??!

Charm and Grace said...

LOVELY! I could fairly smell the fruity grapes and hear the leaves crackle underfoot.


Betsy said...

Autumn is my favorite! And it feels like it already! :)