The autumn's come again
The summer’s voice is still
The autumn's come again
& the clouds descend in rain
& the leaves they are falling from the wood
The summer's voice is still
Save the clacking of the mill
& the lowly muttered thunder of the flood
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By September
By september is thrown oer the globe
When each morning both hedges and bushes do wear
Instead of their green—a grey robe.
To see the sun rise thro the skirts of the wood
In his mantle so lovley and red
It cheers up my spirits and does me much good
As thro the cold stubbles I tred
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The white-thorn tree
And the river running free?
There a maiden stood with me
In Summer weather.
Near a cottage far from town,
While the sun went brightly down
Oer the meadows green and brown,
We loved together.
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On thy gentle stream
Viewing with curious eye the silver bream
Taking vaunting springs to trap the thoughtless flye
That heedless dances on thy gentle stream
The black snail wakens from the swoons of day
& from the boughs that nestle by thy side
The light wing'd moths steal out again to play
Crossing with hasty wing thy rippling tide
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The nearest way
& in their progress seemd to say
‘Haste & gain that destind place
Or soon thoult loose the flitting day’
I instantly obeyd their call
Nor went to where the foot pad lay
But clamberd oer an old rough wall
& stole across the nearest way
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Mist simmers thin
The grass is all wet wi the dew
I cannot come out to thee Roger till noon
Fear o' spoiling my sealskin shoe
No mists need to tarry my Jenny till noon
The mist simmers thin on the hill
Sun beams getting yellow will master him soon
& ye may walk out if ye will
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The mingling dye
Were huddled up together in a heap
And oer the scented wide worlds edge did lie
Resting as quiet as if lulled to sleep
I gazed upon them with a wishing eye
& longed but vainly for the painters power
To give existence to the mingling dye
& snatch a beauty from an evening hour
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