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 …
Madelyn Rose Craig 