To Autumn O Autumn, laden with the mellow fruit,

And with the sweet decay of summer’s light,

Painting the woods with hues of gold and brown,

As in a dream, the quiet world awaits.

The garden breathes its fragrance in the air,

Each leaf a note, each bough a bent refrain,

In the soft whisper of the winds that call,

Nature’s own symphony that fades away.

• Richard Jefferies