Songs of the Cavaliers and Roundheads Jacobite Ballads, &c. &c. By George W. Thornbury ... with illustrations by H. S. Marks |
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OCTOBER DUSK. |
 | Songs of the Cavaliers and Roundheads |  |
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OCTOBER DUSK.
O the saffrons and the purples of the wild October eves,
When the gold of autumn withers, and the wind plucks off the leaves.
When the gold of autumn withers, and the wind plucks off the leaves.
When the grey drifts slowly deepen, losing all their inward light,
When the dark night, dull and leaden, presses on the dimming sight.
When the dark night, dull and leaden, presses on the dimming sight.
Cold the last night's rain is lying in the furrows bright and still,
Glistening in between the ridges, that the dead leaves choke and fill.
Glistening in between the ridges, that the dead leaves choke and fill.
Ghastly glimmers, of weird whiteness, streak between the ashen grey,
Clefts of crimson, pale green lustres, bar the shroud of dying day,
Clefts of crimson, pale green lustres, bar the shroud of dying day,
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Like the rags of purple splendour, dropping from a mummy king—
Now the night wind, rising slowly, moans, blaspheming God and spring.
Now the night wind, rising slowly, moans, blaspheming God and spring.
Stifling darkness, black and solid, gathers round the dim, white road,
Damp oppression, as of evil, crushing man beneath the load.
Damp oppression, as of evil, crushing man beneath the load.
Still from dead leaves in the silence now and then a twitter's borne,
As of lone bird chilled, yet dreaming of the April and the dawn.
As of lone bird chilled, yet dreaming of the April and the dawn.
| Songs of the Cavaliers and Roundheads | |