November.
Besides the autumn poets sing, A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the haze. A few incisive mornings, A few ascetic eyes, -- Gone Mr. Bryant's golden-rod, And Mr. Thomson's sheaves. Still is the bustle in the brook, Sealed are the spicy valves; Mesmeric fingers softly touch The eyes of many elves. Perhaps a squirrel may remain, My sentiments to share. Grant me, O Lord, a sunny mind, Thy windy will to bear!
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"Besides the autumn poets sing,..."
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "November."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...