Autumn Song

O Autumn! I hear you sighing, Through the forest, crisp and dying, Leaves ablaze, in hues confessed, Golden glory in the west.

With every rustle, shadows play, In twilight’s breath, I feel your sway, As the geese in sorrow fly, I gather ‘neath this endless sky.

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Nature sings her last farewell, Before the winter’s icy spell.

• Henry David Thoreau