And November goes,
With the last red berries
And the first white snows.
With night coming early,
And dawn coming late,
And ice in the bucket
And frost by the gate.
The fires burn
And the kettles sing,
And the earth sinks to rest
Until next spring.
~ Elizabeth Coatsworth
November's sky is chill and drear.
~ Sir Walter Scott
The wild November come at last
Beneath a veil of rain.
~ Richard Henry Stoddard
It is hard to hear the north wind again,
And to watch the treetops, as they sway.
~ Wallace Stevens
"The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sear."
~ William Cullen Bryant
