'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 blast
Wails in the key-hole, telling how it pass'd
O'er empty fields, or upland solitudes,
Or grim, wide wave, and now the power is felt
Of melancholy, tenderer in it's moods,
Than any joy indulgent summer dealt."
William Allingham
Thank you for visiting Gracious Hospitality. Please come back soon!
Taken from http://www.gracioushospitality.blogspot.com/
No comments:
Post a Comment