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 I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
 Stand shadowless like silence, listening
  To silence, for no read more 
 I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
 Stand shadowless like silence, listening
  To silence, for no lonely bird would sing
   Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn,
    Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn;--
     Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright
      With tangled gossamer that fell by night,
       Pearling his coronet of golden corn. 
 What visionary tints the year puts on,
 When falling leaves falter through motionless air
  Or numbly cling read more 
 What visionary tints the year puts on,
 When falling leaves falter through motionless air
  Or numbly cling and shiver to be gone!
   How shimmer the low flats and pastures bare,
    As with her nectar Hebe Autumn fills
     The bowl between me and those distant hills,
      And smiles and shakes abroad her misty, tremulous hair! 
 The mellow autumn came, and with it came
 The promised party, to enjoy its sweets.
  The corn read more 
 The mellow autumn came, and with it came
 The promised party, to enjoy its sweets.
  The corn is cut, the manor full of game;
   The pointer ranges, and the sportsman beats
    In russet jacket;--lynx-like is his aim;
     Full grows his bag, and wonderful his feats.
      An, nutbrown partridges! An, brilliant pheasants!
       And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peasants. 
 Autumn wins you best by this, its mute
 Appeal to sympathy for its decay.  
 Autumn wins you best by this, its mute
 Appeal to sympathy for its decay. 
 O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
 With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
  read more 
 O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
 With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
  Beneath my shady roof; there thou mayest rest
   And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
    And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
     Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers. 
 Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods,
 And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt,
 read more 
 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 its moods
       Than any joy indulgent Summer dealt. 
 All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn,
 Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn.  
 All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn,
 Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn. 
 A breath, whence no man knows,
 Swaying the grating weeds, it blows;
  It comes, it grieves, it read more 
 A breath, whence no man knows,
 Swaying the grating weeds, it blows;
  It comes, it grieves, it goes.
   Once it rocked the summer rose. 
 The year's in wane;
 There is nothing adorning;
  The night has no eve,
   And read more 
 The year's in wane;
 There is nothing adorning;
  The night has no eve,
   And the day has no morning;
    Cold winter gives warning!