Summer speaks:
“O wandering Wind, why do you sigh so soon?
My sunny days are not yet through.
Must you come with dry and falling leaves
To cool my fire, my joy, my golden hue?”
Autumn replies:
“Dear friend, I do not come to take, but to change—
To wrap your songs in softer light.
Your warmth has shone so strong, so long,
But...
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