Checq'd Autumn, doubly sweet is thy declining, To meditate within this 'wilder'd shade; To view the wood in its pied lustre shining, And catch thy varied beauties as they fade;...
Autumn, I love thy parting look to view In cold November's day, so bleak and bare, When, thy life's dwindled thread worn nearly thro', With ling'ring, pott'ring pace, and head bleach'd bare,...
The cockchafer hums down the rut-rifted lane Where the wild roses hang and the woodbines entwine, And the shrill squeaking bat makes his circles again Round the side of the tavern close by the sign....
The spring is coming by a many signs; The trays are up, the hedges broken down, That fenced the haystack, and the remnant shines Like some old antique fragment weathered brown....