An Autumn Morning.
White with entangled mists, the cold woods wear1
A hoary aspect ; as the watery sun,2
Climbing the wind-swept eastern heavens so bare,3
A chilly glare casts o’er the landscape dun.4
The red-leaved bramble and red-berried brier,5
Springing so plentiful on every hand,6
Prank the pale banks, and, climbing high and higher,7
Trick the tall hedgerows colouring o’er the land.8
Flocks hillward hie ; fieldward the herd repairs ;9
And o’er the late-ploughed, chocolate-coloured heights10
Stray rooks low wheeling light. The chilly airs11
Sigh in the hedge, as they their lost delights12
Lamented ; while the leaves down wavering13
Seem dreaming, as they fall, of one clear spring.14