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 bea
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