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Besides The Autumn Poets Sing


Besides the Autumn poets sing
A few prosaic days
A little this side of the snow
And that side of the Haze—

A few incisive Mornings—
A few Ascetic Eves—
Gone—Mr. Bryant's "Golden Rod"—
And Mr. Thomson's "sheaves."

Still, is the bustle in the Brook—
Sealed are the spicy valves—
Mesmeric fingers softly touch
The Eyes of many Elves—

Perhaps a squirrel may remain—
My sentiments to share—
Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind—
Thy windy will to bear!

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Comments (5)

What a graceful poem - beautifully written and filled with wisdom and sadness. Your have great poetic skill, Uriah. love, Allie xxxx
It's going to my favourites list. Thanks. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
Uriah, this is so beautiful I could cry just reading it again. Such a moving poem, with moving words. I'm so glad I found it. Excellent write. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
Too beautiful for words, but somehow you found them. Stunning, Uriah. Warm regards, Sandra