Spring’s wakening bugle long is hushed,
Long dimm’d is Summer’s splendour;
October yields her easel bright
To “black and white” November!
~James Rigg, “November,” Wild Flower Lyrics and Other Poems, 1897
How sad would be November if we had no knowledge of the spring! ~Edwin Way Teale, Circle of the Seasons, 1953
October’s foliage yellows with his cold:
In rattling showers dark November’s rain,
From every stormy cloud, descends amain,
Till keen December’s snows close up the year again.
~John Ruskin, “The Months,” c.1834
Fear not November’s challenge bold—
We’ve books and friends,
And hearths that never can grow cold:
These make amends!
~Alexander L. Fraser (1870–1954), “November,” c.1918
And November goes,
With the last red berries
And the first white snows.
With night coming early,
And dawn coming late,
And ice in the bucket
And frost by the gate.
The fires burn
And the kettles sing,
And earth sinks to rest
Until next spring.
~Elizabeth Coatsworth (1893–1986)
I love to see the cottage smoke
Curl upwards through the trees,
The pigeons nestled round the cote
On November days like these…
~John Clare (1793–1864), “Autumn”
If there’s ice in November that will bear a duck,
There’ll be nothing after but sludge and muck.
~English folk-lore rhyme, first printed c.1876
Cheers to a fine festive Hallowe’en Friday & Saturday & an all souls Sunday that sings!!!
The golden evening brightens in the west;
Soon, soon, to faithful warriors cometh rest.
Sweet is the calm of Paradise the blest.