The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince Edited by R. A. Douglas Lithgow |
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[Not yet is autumn desolate and cold] |
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 | The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince |  |
[Not yet is autumn desolate and cold]
Not yet is autumn desolate and cold,For all his woods are kindling into hues
Of gorgeous beauty, mixed and manifold,
Which in the soul a kindred glow transfuse.
The stubble fields gleam out like tarnished gold
In the mild lustre of the temperate day,
And where the ethereal ocean is unrolled,
Light clouds, like barques of silver, float away;
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The winds make music as they come and go;
Whispers the withering brake; the streamlet grieves,
Or seems to grieve, with a melodious woe;
Whilst in soft notes, which o'er the heart prevail,
The ruddy-breasted Robin pours his tender tale.
| The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince | |