John Keats composed this perfect poem, "To Autumn," two hundred years ago, on September 19, 1819, after an evening walk along the River Itchen. Fred Stocking, emeritus professor at Williams College, used to recite this to himself as he walked around campus, and I'm reciting it here from memory in honor of Fred. Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend wit