Ella Wheeler Wilcox

October

        SHE 

Gone are the Spring and Summer from the year;
And from our lives as well. May we not, dear,
In our October find serene delights
To take the place of ardent summer nights?
Not striving to retain a dying season,
Or imitate its pleasures, but with reason
Accepting Autumn's quiet, briefer day
Of calm content, not seeking to be gay?

        HE 

Gone are the Spring and Summer; yet behold
The radiant woods, supreme in red and gold
And russet colours; and the wind harp plays
A louder song than in the April days.
Our lives need not be colourless or sober
Because of Autumn. Emulate October,
Who will not let the ageing years grow dull,
But keep its love by being beautiful.