Monday, November 16, 2009

Autumn




Go, Sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them
The summer flowers depart
Sit still 
As all transform'd to stone,
Except your musing heart.


~The Autumn~ 
(excerpt)
 ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning~

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