The sweet calm sunshine of October, now
warms the low spot; upon its grassy mold
The purple oak-leaf falls; the birchen bough
drops its bright spoil like arrow-heads of gold.
– William Cullen Bryant
Listen! the wind is rising,
and the air is wild with leaves,
We have had our summer evenings,
now for October eves!
– Humbert Wolfe
Enjoy the song!