Page:The inn of dreams (1911).djvu/21

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The Autumn Day

That flower at dawn with roses red and white . . .
And flame at sunset gold and amethyst . . .

How delicately steps the autumn day
In azure cloak and gown of ashen grey
Over the level country that I love . . .

And how my heart that all sweet things beguile
Goes laughing with her for a little while . . .
And then turns homeward like a weary dove.

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