86
november.
Then get thee hence—tread thou the path
Which circling months have trod before,
Give way to Winter's honest wrath,
For, grateful that thy reign is o'er,
Welcome the fleecy shower! welcome the whirlwind's roar!
Which circling months have trod before,
Give way to Winter's honest wrath,
For, grateful that thy reign is o'er,
Welcome the fleecy shower! welcome the whirlwind's roar!
November, why o'er yonder tomb
Low'rs thy dark sky with denser gloom?
O'er yon deserted, lonely grave,
Thy rushing winds more shrilly rave,
There thick descends thy yellow leaf
In whirling eddies from on high,
And in the sudden sob of grief
Thy voice mourns hollowly!
Who slumbers there—what silent friend,
That on his chill dank bed thy gather'd woes descend?
Low'rs thy dark sky with denser gloom?
O'er yon deserted, lonely grave,
Thy rushing winds more shrilly rave,
There thick descends thy yellow leaf
In whirling eddies from on high,
And in the sudden sob of grief
Thy voice mourns hollowly!
Who slumbers there—what silent friend,
That on his chill dank bed thy gather'd woes descend?
