The wild November come at last beneath a veil of rain. The night wind blows its folds aside, her face is full of pain. The latest of her race, she takes the Autumn's vacant throne, She has but one short moon to live, and she must live alone.
Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woodsAnd day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.william allingham
O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth.Percy Bysshe Shelley
When on the breath of Autumn's breeze, From pastures dry and brown, Goes floating, like an idle thought, The fair, white thistle-down; O, then what joy to walk at will, Upon the golden harvest-hill!mary howitt
We lack but open eye and earTo find the Orient's marvels here;The still small voice in Autumn's hush,Yon maple wood the burning bush.john greenleaf whittier
Now westlin winds, and slaught'rin guns Bring Autumn's pleasant weather.Robert Burns
Down comes rain drop, bubble follows; On the house-top one by one Flock the synagogue of swallows, Met to vote that Autumn's gone.théophile gautier
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