I came upon this atmospheric poem whilst reading a book on the seasons, I think it conveys the mood of Autumn perfectly and seeing as it is now October I thought that it would be appropriate to share it.

‘Autumn song’ by George MacDonald

Autumn clouds are flying, flying
O’er the waste of blue;
Summer flowers are dying, dying,
Late so lovely new.
Labouring wains are slowly rolling
Home with winter grain;
Holy bells are slowly tolling
Over buried men.

Goldener light sets noon a-sleeping
Like an afternoon;
Colder airs come stealing, creeping
From the misty moon;
And the leaves, all tired of blowing,
cloud-like o’er the sun;
change to sunset colours, knowing
That their day is done.

Autumn’s sun is sinking, sinking
Down to winter low;
And our hearts are thinking, thinking
Of the sleet and snow;
Our life’s sun is slowly going
Down the hill of might;
Will our clouds shine golden-glowing
On the slope of night?

But the vanished corn is lying
In rich golden glooms.
In the churchyard all the sighing
Is above the tombs.
Spring will come, slow-lingering
Opening buds of faith;
Man goes forth to meet his spring
Through the door of death.