Autumnal Sonnet
Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods,And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt,And night by night the monitory blastWails in the key-hold, telling how it pass'dO'er empty fields, or upland solitudes,Or grim wide wave; and now the power is feltOf melancholy, tenderer in its moodsThan any joy indulgent summer dealt.Dear friends, together in the glimmering eve,Pensive and glad, with tones that recogniseThe soft invisible dew in each one's eyes,It may be, somewhat thus we shall have leaveTo walk with memory,--when distant liesPoor Earth, where we were wont to live and grieve.
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