"Give me October's meditative haze"
Give me October's meditative haze,
Its gossamer mornings, dewy—wimpled eves,
Dewy and fragrant, fragrant and secure,
The long slow sound of farmward—wending wains,
When homely Love sups quiet 'mid his sheaves,
Sups 'mid his sheaves, his sickle at his side,
And all is peace, peace and plump fruitfulness.
