Emma my darling the summer is bye
The autumn is faded and cloudy the sky
The willows are changing—the hips and the hawe's
Now glow on the hedges—as red as birds claws
'Till fieldfairs come from far far away
And carry off berries and hips all the day
Winds sing in the hedges like notes of a bird
And the sedges they cut like the edge of a sword
The hedges will shelter my Emma and me
As we walk down the wood neath the wind shaking tree
The seugh through the hedges, the swop of black crows
How the bushy tops dance, and how swift the mill goes
How sweet the flags rustle, how swift the waves run
While the river-lock bombs like the sound of a gun
The coots like to snow flakes sweep o'er the flood track
And the grim clouds above them look angry & black
So come my dear Emma lets walk in the fields
The fields of November a pleasant walk yields
There's the roost robbing reynard and the hounds in full cry
The still sweeing crows—pigeon flocks sewing by
The mellow brown fields—and the leaf littered brook
How sweet to the fancy of Emma they'll look
So come dearest Emma we'll up and away
A ramble in Autumn's as sweet as in May
The autumn is faded and cloudy the sky
The willows are changing—the hips and the hawe's
Now glow on the hedges—as red as birds claws
'Till fieldfairs come from far far away
And carry off berries and hips all the day
Winds sing in the hedges like notes of a bird
And the sedges they cut like the edge of a sword
The hedges will shelter my Emma and me
As we walk down the wood neath the wind shaking tree
The seugh through the hedges, the swop of black crows
How the bushy tops dance, and how swift the mill goes
How sweet the flags rustle, how swift the waves run
While the river-lock bombs like the sound of a gun
The coots like to snow flakes sweep o'er the flood track
And the grim clouds above them look angry & black
So come my dear Emma lets walk in the fields
The fields of November a pleasant walk yields
There's the roost robbing reynard and the hounds in full cry
The still sweeing crows—pigeon flocks sewing by
The mellow brown fields—and the leaf littered brook
How sweet to the fancy of Emma they'll look
So come dearest Emma we'll up and away
A ramble in Autumn's as sweet as in May
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