Autumn's Writhing
So spake it benighted and call it sad
For thy dulcet dreams man never had
With dreams ephemeral and longings eternal
What pain doth bring if spring's art vernal?
Longing for the river in love's wishing rove
Dancing light shimmers abreast a kissing clove
Happiness shan't part nor need feign
Prithee thy heart heft; bereft of pain
For the kisses in dew and her heart is thine
The blossoms are beau when our lips entwine
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