Helen Hunt Jackson

Amherst, Massachusetts
Helen Hunt Jackson
Amherst, Massachusetts
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Rating: 3.2
1 The golden-rod is yellow;
2 The corn is turning brown;
3 The trees in apple orchards
4 With fruit are bending down.

5 The gentian's bluest fringes
6 Are curling in the sun;
7 In dusty pods the milkweed
8 Its hidden silk has spun.

9 The sedges flaunt their harvest,
10 In every meadow nook;
11 And asters by the brook-side
12 Make asters in the brook,

13 From dewy lanes at morning
14 The grapes' sweet odors rise;
15 At noon the roads all flutter
16 With yellow butterflies.

17 By all these lovely tokens
18 September days are here,
19 With summer's best of weather,
20 And autumn's best of cheer.

21 But none of all this beauty
22 Which floods the earth and air
23 Is unto me the secret
24 Which makes September fair.

25 'T is a thing which I remember;
26 To name it thrills me yet:
27 One day of one September
28 I never can forget.
Ruth Ann 14 September 2020
4th grade 1948 Baltimore, Md. Each student was required to stand up by his or her desk and recite the poem of the week from memory. This is one of my favorites. Perhaps others with similarly remember an annual commemoration of WW I with the poignant words of " In Flanders Fields." I now suspect that some of my teachers may have lost loved ones in that and the subsequent great calamity, something that never, of course, touched my awareness at the time.
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Doris Bush 12 September 2020
I don't understand the meaning of the 25th & 26th line
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Kristen 18 October 2020
It relates back to line 23 and 24. She is remembering the thing that she is keeping a secret, and it (the secret) is the thing above all others mentioned that make September fair.
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Michelle Rothwell 31 October 2019
Assigned to learn this poem 52 years ago in fourth grade, I'm pleased that my memory still holds the beautiful words of this poem and the sensations it brings up in me.
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Zeke Normandin 14 September 2019
2nd grade...Blackstone Mass.....1946.....Miss Murphy..Lincoln School........this is the poem that haunts me still...I am now approaching 80 and as I fly fish a New England creek.......the rhyme echos in my ears.......The golden rod is yellow has found my nose and eyes.....but the sedges hatching.....still cause the speckled trout to turn into dinner....
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Paresh Chakra 14 December 2018
September is a very gorgeous poem
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C.J. Stewart 01 October 2018
I I learned this poem by heart over 70 years ago in 1st grade and still can recite the beginning by heart I have always loved it, perhaps because I am a September baby!
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Mildred staton 19 April 2018
I learned this poem in school I forgot some of the words but never the meaning. It was a joy to be able to pull it up Beautiful
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Amar Agarwala 18 October 2016
What mesmeric verses... September comes to life and endows with immorality!
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Cynthia Snow 15 September 2013
My mother's favorite poem also. She and my father got married in September. Sadly, it was also the month in which she died. So for me this poem is bittersweet.
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Jim Foster 06 August 2011
My mother Wilma Foster loved this poem and recited it every September even though she was blind the last ten years of her life. We read this poem at her funeral.
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