O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!
Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!
Thy mists, that roll and rise!
Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag
And all but cry with colour! That gaunt crag
To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff!
World, World, I cannot get thee close enough!
Long have I known a glory in it all,
But never knew I this;
Here such a passion is
As stretcheth me apart,—Lord, I do fear
Thou’st made the world too beautiful this year;
My soul is all but out of me,—let fall
No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.
Source: Renascence and Other Poems (Harper & Brothers, 1917)
I love collecting quotes, especially from authors I admire and enjoy. A lovely turn of phrase can change the most dreary day into one of beauty. On Saturday we move, and I’m trying not to think about it. So instead I’m thinking about fall. Autumn. The beauty and enchanting quality of the season soon to come. We’ll be settled, or at least landed. Back to living life, rather than watching it race by while we pack, and pack, and pack.
I can feel autumn coming, in the light breeze, the refreshing rain, the gentle mornings. Sure, it’s almost 90*. But that won’t last. August never does. Soon it will be September and I will begin pulling out sweaters and boots just because I can.
George Eliot, aka Mary Anne Evans, was a like-minded soul, apparently.