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Literary
March 30, 1886
Springfield Globe Republic
Springfield, Clark County, Ohio
What is this article about?
On a beautiful Indian summer morning in September extending into November, Rosalind McHugh is inspired by the scene to write poetry, but a call to fry buckwheats pulls her from poetic thoughts to domestic duties.
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Full Text
A Descent from Thoughts Poetic
Hartford Post
It was one of those delightful September
mornings that strayed over into November.
The light autumnal haze of Indian summer
was sleeping on the hill tops, only to be
invigorated with the colors of the rising
sun. Rosalind McHugh, aroused by the
matin song that arose from the poultry
yard, parted the curtains and looked forth
upon the scene. "What a gorgeous morning!
Oh, why should I be chained to this humdrum
sphere? I will seize my pen and pour
forth melodious verse in honor of this day
of the gods."
"Rosy!" came a sharp call from the foot
of the stair. "Come down and fry the
buckwheats, right away!"
And from thoughts poetic to deeds domestic,
Rosalind descended.
Hartford Post
It was one of those delightful September
mornings that strayed over into November.
The light autumnal haze of Indian summer
was sleeping on the hill tops, only to be
invigorated with the colors of the rising
sun. Rosalind McHugh, aroused by the
matin song that arose from the poultry
yard, parted the curtains and looked forth
upon the scene. "What a gorgeous morning!
Oh, why should I be chained to this humdrum
sphere? I will seize my pen and pour
forth melodious verse in honor of this day
of the gods."
"Rosy!" came a sharp call from the foot
of the stair. "Come down and fry the
buckwheats, right away!"
And from thoughts poetic to deeds domestic,
Rosalind descended.
What sub-type of article is it?
Prose Fiction
Satire
What themes does it cover?
Nature
Social Manners
What keywords are associated?
Indian Summer
Poetic Inspiration
Domestic Duties
Humorous Sketch
Autumn Morning
Literary Details
Title
A Descent From Thoughts Poetic
Key Lines
"What A Gorgeous Morning! Oh, Why Should I Be Chained To This Humdrum Sphere? I Will Seize My Pen And Pour Forth Melodious Verse In Honor Of This Day Of The Gods."
"Rosy!" Came A Sharp Call From The Foot Of The Stair. "Come Down And Fry The Buckwheats, Right Away!"
And From Thoughts Poetic To Deeds Domestic, Rosalind Descended.