• The autumn seems to cry for thee,
      Best lover of the autumn days!
    Each scarlet-tipped and wine-red tree,
      Each russet branch and branch of gold,
    Gleams through its veil of shimmering haze,
      And seeks thee as they sought of old:
    For all the glory of their dress,
    They wear a look of wistfulness.

    In every wood I see thee stand,...