So sere, so melancholy bright,

Fell like the half-reflected gleam

Or shadow of some former dream;

A moment's golden revery

Poured out on every plant and tree

A semblance of weird joy, or less,

A sort of spectral happiness;

And I, too, standing idly there,

With muffled hands in the chill air,

Felt the warm glow about my feet,

And shuddering betwixt cold and heat,

Drew my thoughts closer, like a cloak,

While something in my blood awoke,

A nameless and unnatural cheer,

A pleasure secret and austere.

BY AN AUTUMN STREAM

Now overhead,

Where the rivulet loiters and stops,

The bittersweet hangs from the tops

Of the alders and cherries

 Prev. P 50/70 next