<h2 class="p4">OCTOBER</h2>
<p class="pn center">Ancient Cornish name:<br/>
Miz-hedra, watery month.</p>
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<p class="pn center">Jewel: Opal. Hope.</p>
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<p class="pn center"><span class="smcap">October Fourth.</span></p>
<p class="pn center">St. Francis and St. Benedight died 1226.</p>
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<p class="pn">St. Francis and St. Benedight,<br/>
Blesse this house from wicked wight<br/>
From the night-mare, and the goblin<br/>
That is night Good-Fellow-Robin;<br/>
Keep it from all evil spirits,<br/>
Fairies, weezils, rats, and ferrets:</p>
<p class="pn20">From curfew time,<br/>
To the next prime.</p>
<p class="pnr"><i>William Cartwright.</i></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</SPAN></span></p>
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<p class="pn20">
Who soweth in rain<br/>
Hath weed to his pain;<br/>
But worse shall he speed<br/>
That soweth ill seed.</p>
<p class="pnr"><i>Tusser.</i></p>
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<p class="pni">When Autumn, sad but sunlit, doth appear,</p>
<p class="pni">With his gold hand gilding the falling leaf,</p>
<p class="pni">Bringing up Winter to fulfil the year,</p>
<p class="pni">Bearing upon his back the ripened sheaf;</p>
<p class="pni">When all the hills with woolly seed are white,</p>
<p class="pni">When lightning fires and gleams do meet from far the sight;</p>
<p class="pni">When the fair apple, flushed as even sky,</p>
<p class="pni">Doth bend the tree unto the fertile ground,</p>
<p class="pni">When juicy pears and berries of black dye</p>
<p class="pni">Do dance in air and call the eye around:</p>
<p class="pni">Then, be the even foul or be it fair,</p>
<p class="pni">Methinks my heart's delight is stained with some care.</p>
<p class="pnr"><i>Chatterton.</i></p>
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<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</SPAN></span></p>
<p class="pni">There is strange music in the stirring wind,</p>
<p class="pni">When lowers the autumnal eve, and all alone</p>
<p class="pni">To the dark wood's cold covert thou art gone,</p>
<p class="pni">Whose ancient trees on the rough slope reclined</p>
<p class="pni">Rock, and at times scatter their tresses sere.</p>
<p class="pnr"><i>W. L. Bowles.</i></p>
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<p class="pn center"><span class="smcap">Of Gardens.</span></p>
<p>In October and beginning of November come
services, medlars, bullaces, roses cut or removed
to come late, hollyoaks, and such like.</p>
<p class="pnr"><i>Bacon.</i></p>
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<p><span class="smcap">Seed-Time.</span></p>
<p class="pni">October's gold is dim—the forests rot,</p>
<p class="pni">The weary rain falls ceaseless, while the day</p>
<p class="pni">Is wrapt in damp. In mire of village way</p>
<p class="pni">The hedgerow leaves are stampt, and, all forgot,</p>
<p class="pni">The broodless nest sits visible in the thorn.</p>
<p class="pni">Autumn, among her drooping marigolds,</p>
<p class="pni">Weeps all her garnered fields and empty folds</p>
<p class="pni">And dripping orchards, plundered and forlorn.</p>
<p class="pnr"><i>David Gray.</i></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</SPAN></span></p>
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<p><span class="smcap">Autumn Days.</span></p>
<p class="pni">Yellow, mellow, ripened days,</p>
<p class="pni10">Sheltered in a golden coating;</p>
<p class="pni">O'er the dreamy, listless haze,</p>
<p class="pni10">White and dainty cloudlets floating</p>
<p class="pni">Winking at the blushing trees,</p>
<p class="pni10">And the sombre, furrowed fallow;</p>
<p class="pni">Smiling at the airy ease</p>
<p class="pni10">Of the southward flying swallow.</p>
<p class="pni">Sweet and smiling are thy ways,</p>
<p class="pni">Beauteous, golden, Autumn days!</p>
<p class="pni p1">Shivering, quivering, tearful days,</p>
<p class="pni10">Fretfully and sadly weeping;</p>
<p class="pni">Dreading still, with anxious gaze,</p>
<p class="pni10">Icy fetters round thee creeping;</p>
<p class="pni">O'er the cheerless, withered plain,</p>
<p class="pni10">Woefully and hoarsely calling;</p>
<p class="pni">Pelting hail and drenching rain,</p>
<p class="pni10">On thy scanty vestments falling.</p>
<p class="pni">Sad and mournful are thy ways,</p>
<p class="pni">Grieving, wailing, Autumn days!</p>
<p class="pnr"><i>Will. Carleton.</i></p>
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<p class="pn15">Moan, oh ye autumn winds!</p>
<p class="pn25"><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</SPAN></span>Summer has fled,</p>
<p class="pn">The flowers have closed their tender leaves and die;</p>
<p class="pn20">The lily's gracious head</p>
<p class="pn20">All low must lie,</p>
<p class="pn10">Because the gentle Summer now is dead.</p>
<p class="pn15 p1">Mourn, mourn, oh autumn winds,</p>
<p class="pn25">Lament and mourn;</p>
<p class="pn">How many half-blown buds must close and die;</p>
<p class="pn20">Hopes with the Summer born</p>
<p class="pn20">All faded lie,</p>
<p class="pn10">And leave us desolate and earth forlorn!</p>
<p class="pnr"><i>A. A. Procter.</i></p>
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<p class="pn center"><span class="smcap">St. Simon and St. Jude's Day.</span> (<i>October 28th.</i>)</p>
<p>It is a Bedford custom for boys to cry baked
pears about the town, with the following
words:—</p>
<p class="pn20">Who knows what I have got?<br/>
In a hot pot?<br/>
Baked Wardens—all hot!<br/>
Who knows what I have got?</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</SPAN></span></p>
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<p class="pn">October brings the cold weather down,</p>
<p class="pn0">When the wind and the rain continue;</p>
<p class="pn">He nerves the limbs that are lazy grown,</p>
<p class="pn0">And braces the languid sinew;</p>
<p class="pn">So while we have voices and lungs to cheer,</p>
<p class="pn0">And the winter frost before us,</p>
<p class="pn">Come chant to the king of the mortal year,</p>
<p class="pn0">And thunder him out in chorus.</p>
<p class="pnr"><i>E. E. Bowen.</i></p>
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<p class="pni">"Decay, decay," the wildering west winds cry;</p>
<p class="pni">"Decay, decay," the moaning woods reply;</p>
<p class="pni">The whole dead autumn landscape, drear and chill,</p>
<p class="pni">Strikes the same chord of desolate sadness still.</p>
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<p>Full moon in October without frost, no frost
till full moon in November.</p>
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<p>Hoar frost and gipsies never stay nine days in
a place.</p>
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<p>There are always nineteen fine days in
October.</p>
<p class="pnr"><i>Kentish saying.</i></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</SPAN></span></p>
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<p class="pn55">An April frost</p>
<p class="pni">Is sharp, but kills not; sad October's storm</p>
<p class="pni">Strikes when the juices and the vital sap</p>
<p class="pni">Are ebbing from the leaf.</p>
<p class="pnr"><i>Henry Taylor.</i></p>
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<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</SPAN></span></p>
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