To Autumn Paroles

And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel, to set a budding more
And still more, later flowers for the bees
Until they think warm days will never cease
For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells

Who hath not seen oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep

Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours

Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn
Hedge-crickets sing, and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies