An October Day

Julia Stockton Dinsmore

To the far hills the veil of mist still clings
A Though the high sun soars to a summer sky;
Frightened by last night's chill, there flutter by
Belated butterflies with yellow wings;
The daring spider's glistening slack-rope swings
From weed to bush; in golden bower nigh
A bird bound southward, lingering, loath to fly,
Snatches of his forgotten love-song sings.
The chirping things of summer's loss complain
In querulous chorus linked with long refrain,
Sad-hearted songsters that no sun beguiles
To blest forgetfulness of frost's keen pain;
While the doomed primrose still unconscious smiles,
And dazzled violets look for Spring again.