Longfellow On Moving Forward

Do This First (Daily Motivational Podcast)

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem "Autumn" is probably one of his most beautiful pieces. It uses descriptive language to paint a picture of the nuances of Autumn. The poem, in essence, is about transformation, and emotional depth. He calls Autumn a beautiful spirit as it is essentially imbuing everything it touches with new life.

Longfellow reflects on the passage of time as Autumn is also closely associated with transitions. It reminds us that life keeps moving forward as it is perpetual motion. Nature knows this and reminds us in every season to take inventory of our lives.

Autumn is an especially great time to reflect on what is stagnant and how we can get to the next level. On this podcast episode, we explore the personal development themes in Longfellow's Autumn with a focus on moving forward with goals and living life.

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Autumn

With what a glory comes and goes the year!

The buds of spring, those beautiful harbingers

Of sunny skies and cloudless times, enjoy

Life's newness, and earth's garniture spread out;

And when the silver habit of the clouds

Comes down upon the autumn sun, and with

A sober gladness the old year takes up

His bright inheritance of golden fruits,

A pomp and pageant fill the splendid scene.

There is a beautiful spirit breathing now

Its mellow richness on the clustered trees,

And, from a beaker full of richest dyes,

Pouring new glory on the autumn woods,

And dipping in warm light the pillared clouds.

Morn on the mountain, like a summer bird,

Lifts up her purple wing, and in the vales

The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer,

Kisses the blushing leaf, and stirs up life

Within the solemn woods of ash deep-crimsoned,

And silver beech, and maple yellow-leaved,

Where Autumn, like a faint old man, sits down

By the wayside a-weary. Through the trees

The golden robin moves. The purple finch,

That on wild cherry and red cedar feeds,

A winter bird, comes with its plaintive whistle,

And pecks by the witch-hazel, whilst aloud

From cottage roofs the warbling blue-bird sings,

And merrily, with oft-repeated stroke,

Sounds from the threshing-floor the busy flail.

O what a glory doth this world put on

For him who, with a fervent heart, goes forth

Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks

On duties well performed, and days well spent!

For him the wind, ay, and the yellow leaves,

Shall have a voice, and give him eloquent teachings.

He shall so hear the solemn hymn that Death

Has lifted up for all, that he shall go

To his long resting-place without a tear.