I love the fitful gust that shakes
The casement all the day
& from the glossy elm tree takes
The faded leaves away
Twirling them by the window pane
With thousand others down the lane
I love to see the cottage smoke
Curl upwards through the trees
The pigeons nestled round the cote
On November days like these
The cock upon the dunghill crowing
The mill sails on the heath a-going
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