THE AUTUMN WINDS
The autumn winds are sighing
Through the naked leafless trees;
I hear their plaintive moaning
So unlike the summer breeze.
They tell of many sorrows,
They whisper of the dead;
They bring to memory many thoughts
Of happy days now fled.
[Aged 12 years.]
Through the naked leafless trees;
I hear their plaintive moaning
So unlike the summer breeze.
They tell of many sorrows,
They whisper of the dead;
They bring to memory many thoughts
Of happy days now fled.
[Aged 12 years.]
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