(30 January 1775 – 17 September 1864 / Warwick)

Late Leaves

THE leaves are falling; so am I;
The few late flowers have moisture in the eye;
   So have I too.
Scarcely on any bough is heard
Joyous, or even unjoyous, bird
   The whole wood through.

Winter may come: he brings but nigher
His circle (yearly narrowing) to the fire
   Where old friends meet.
Let him; now heaven is overcast,
And spring and summer both are past,
   And all things sweet.

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