14.07.2007, 21:46
To Autumn, near Her Departure
Thou maid of gentle light, thy straw-wove vest
And russet cincture; thy loose pale-tinged hair;
Thy melancholy voice and languid air,
As if shut up within that pensive breast
Some never-to-be-divulged grief was pressed;
Thy looks resigned that smiles of patience wear
While winter's blasts thy scattered tresses tear,
Thee, autumn, with divinest charms have blessed!
Let blooming spring with gaudy hopes delight
That dazzling summer shall of her be born;
Let summer blaze; and winter's stormy train
Breathe awful music in the ear of night--
Thee will I court, sweet dying maid forlorn,
And from thy glance will catch the inspired strain.
Thou maid of gentle light, thy straw-wove vest
And russet cincture; thy loose pale-tinged hair;
Thy melancholy voice and languid air,
As if shut up within that pensive breast
Some never-to-be-divulged grief was pressed;
Thy looks resigned that smiles of patience wear
While winter's blasts thy scattered tresses tear,
Thee, autumn, with divinest charms have blessed!
Let blooming spring with gaudy hopes delight
That dazzling summer shall of her be born;
Let summer blaze; and winter's stormy train
Breathe awful music in the ear of night--
Thee will I court, sweet dying maid forlorn,
And from thy glance will catch the inspired strain.