Cicely Fox Smith
Autumn - Poem by Cicely Fox Smith
Stern Time hath banished with a frown
The summer, now grown wan and old;
In grief the woodlands lay adown
Their crowns of gold.
No more the copses echo round
With stockdove's moan and woodwren's lay;
To gladden distant shores with sound
They wing their way.
The wild winds shudder thro' the trees,
Where late the redstart's carol rang;
The torn nests wanton with the breeze
Where sweet birds sang.
The sere, sad leaves, their glory done,
Fall from the bough to meet the wave;
The stream they shadowed from the sun
Gives them a grave.
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