October

Far off a wind blew, and I heard     Wild echoes of the woods reply -     The herald of some royal word,     With bannered trumpet, blown on high,     Meseemed then passed me by:     Who summoned marvels there to meet,     With pomp, upon a cloth of gold;     Where berries of the bittersweet,     That, splitting, showed the coals they hold,     Sowed garnets through the wold:     Where, under tents of maples, seeds     Of smooth carnelian, oval red,     The spice-bush spangled: where, like beads,     The dogwood's rounded rubies - fed     With fire - blazed and bled.     And there I saw amid the rout     Of months, in richness cavalier,     A minnesinger - lips apout;     A gypsy face; straight as a spear;     A rose stuck in his ear:     Eyes, sparkling like old German wine,     All mirth and moonlight; naught to spare     Of slender beard, that lent a line     To his short lip; October there,     With chestnut curling hair.     His brown baretta swept its plume     Red through the leaves; his purple hose,     Puffed at the thighs, made gleam of gloom;     His tawny doublet, slashed with rose,     And laced with crimson bows,     Outshone the wahoo's scarlet pride,     The haw, in rich vermilion dressed:     A dagger dangling at his side,     A slim lute, banded to his breast,     Whereon his hands were pressed.     I saw him come.... And, lo, to hear     The lilt of his approaching lute,     No wonder that the regnant Year     Bent down her beauty, blushing mute,     Her heart beneath his foot.