Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867.
I. Fading AutumnMrs. Elizabeth Clementine Kinney (18101889)
T
The forest-leaves no more in hectic red
Give glowing tokens of their brief decay,
But scattered lie, or rustle at the tread,
Like whispered warnings from the mouldering dead;
The naked trees stretch out their arms all day,
And each bald hill-top lifts its reverend head
As if for some new covering to pray.
Come, W
Above the desolation of this scene;
And when the sun with gems shall make it bright,
Or, when its snowy folds by midnight’s queen
Are silvered o’er with a serener light,
We ’ll cease to sigh for summer’s living green.