The sweet calm sunshine of October, now_x000D_ _x000D_ Warms the low spot; upon its grassy mold_x000D_ _x000D_ The pur0ple oak-leaf falls; the birchen bough_x000D_ _x000D_ drops its bright spoil like arrow-heads of gold.
Interpretation
This quote celebrates the tranquility and beauty of October, emphasizing the vivid colors of fallen leaves.
William C. Bryant eloquently captures the serene beauty of October in this quote, depicting how the warm sunshine highlights the colors of autumn. The imagery of falling leaves, described as 'arrow-heads of gold,' illustrates the richness of nature and the peacefulness that accompanies the transition of seasons, reminding us to appreciate the small wonders around us.
In practice
This quote can be used to introduce a poetry reading about the beauty of autumn.
Come when the rains_x000D_ _x000D_ Have glazed the snow and clothed the trees with ice,_x000D_ _x000D_ While the slant sun of February pours_x000D_ _x000D_ Into the bowers a flood of light. Approach!_x000D_ _x000D_ The incrusted surface shall upbear thy steps_x000D_ _x000D_ And the broad arching portals of the grove_x000D_ _x000D_ Welcome thy entering.
Difficulty, my brethren, is the nurse of greatness - a harsh nurse, who roughly rocks her foster children into strength and athletic proportion.
Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson,_x000D_ Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green._x000D_ Such a kindly autumn, so mercifully dealing_x000D_ With the growths of summer, I never yet have seen.
Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth in her fair page.
When April winds_x000D_ Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush_x000D_ Of scarlet flowers. The tulip tree, high up,_x000D_ Opened in airs of June her multitude_x000D_ Of golden chalices to humming-birds_x000D_ And silken-wing'd insects of the sky.
There is no glory in star or blossom till looked upon by a loving eye; There is no fragrance in April breezes till breathed with joy as they wander by.
The sun shines not on us but in us. The rivers flow not past, but through us. Thrilling, tingling, vibrating every fiber and cell of the substance of our bodies, making them glide and sing. The trees wave and the flowers bloom in our bodies as well as our souls, and every bird song, wind song, and tremendous storm song of the rocks in the heart of the mountains is our song, our very own, and sings our love.
Our health relies entirely on the vitality of our fellow species on Earth.
I stood beside a hill_x000D_ _x000D_ Smooth with new-laid snow,_x000D_ _x000D_ A single star looked out_x000D_ _x000D_ From the cold evening glow._x000D_ _x000D_ There was not other creature_x000D_ _x000D_ That saw what I could see,_x000D_ _x000D_ I stood and watched the evening star_x000D_ _x000D_ As long as it watched me.
To dwellers in a wood, almost every species of tree has its voice as well as its feature.
It was the best place to be, thought Wilbur, this warm delicious cellar, with the garrulous geese, the changing seasons, the heat of the sun, the passage of swallows, the nearness of rats, the sameness of sheep, the love of spiders, the smell of manure, and the glory of everything.
The subtlety of nature is greater many times over than the subtlety of the senses and understanding.
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