Explore "October" by Robert Frost on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
O Hushed October morning mild, / Thy leaves have ripened to the fall; / To-morrow's wind, if it be wild, / Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call; / To-morrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild, / Begin the hours of this day slow, / Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled, / Beguile us in the way you know; / Release one leaf at break of day; / At noon release another leaf; / One from our trees, one far away; / Retard the sun with gentle mist; / Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes' sake, if they were all, / Whose leaves already are burnt with frost, / Whose clustered fruit must else be lost-
For the grapes' sake along the wall.