A poem by Wordsworth for September 3

Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802

Earth has not anything to show more fair:

Dull would he be of soul who could pass by

A sight so touching in its majesty:

This City now doth, like a garment, wear

The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,

Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie

Open unto the fields, and to the sky;

All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.

Never did sun more beautifully steep

In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;

Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!

The river glideth at his own sweet will:

Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;

And all that mighty heart is lying still!
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        ~ William Wordsworth
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 I meant to post this in the morning, because it's a dawn poem...but just didn't get to it.  Anyway, here it is.  

Such a lovely moment--to be awake in the stillness of early morning, looking out over the city.  

Since it is getting late, here is a link to a poem by Sara Teasdale, called "September Midnight..."

"Lyric night of the lingering Indian Summer,

Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing..."

(Go read the rest!!)