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Feeling a little depressed and looking through the window at the grey misty November afternoon and its rain, I'm reminded of Robert Frost's poem My November Guest.

My November Guest

My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rainrainy-november-days
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted grey
Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.Robert Frost

Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise


That's lovely, and does indeed capture November's spare beauty.
My sentiments too.
I love that and I've never seen it before.
That's lovely, and suits the image and the season. Thank you!
It certainly does today!
Thanks again for sharing that. I don't think I had encountered that Frost poem before.

My, he did have gloomy days, weeks, months, poor thing.
Sounds like a day for a good book, a good fire, and a hot cuppa.
One of my favourites. I have to admit that I love Autumn and Winter.
Today is even worse - a day for the bed, as they say. Utterly miserable. I'm afraid there won't be any "walking the sodden pasture lane".
I haven't seen that poem before, so thank you for posting it.

It's very Novemberish here today: high winds and that soft grey Celtic rain that can last for days on end.
how wonderful!