AUTUMN IN PRISON

AUTUMN IN PRISON

AUTUMN IN PRISON

Herewhere no tree changes,Here in a prison of pine,I think how Autumn rangesThe country that is mine.There—rust upon the chill breeze—The woodland leaf now whirls;There sway the yellowing birchesLike dainty dancing girls.Oh, how the leaves are dancingWith Death at Lassington!And Death is now enhancingBeauty I walked upon.The roads with leaves are littered,Yellow, brown, and red.The homes where robins twitteredLie ruin; but insteadGaunt arms of stretching giantsStand in the azure air,Cutting the sky in patternSo common, yet so fair.The heart is kindled by it,And lifted as with wine,In Lassington and Highnam—The woodlands that were mine.

Herewhere no tree changes,Here in a prison of pine,I think how Autumn rangesThe country that is mine.There—rust upon the chill breeze—The woodland leaf now whirls;There sway the yellowing birchesLike dainty dancing girls.Oh, how the leaves are dancingWith Death at Lassington!And Death is now enhancingBeauty I walked upon.The roads with leaves are littered,Yellow, brown, and red.The homes where robins twitteredLie ruin; but insteadGaunt arms of stretching giantsStand in the azure air,Cutting the sky in patternSo common, yet so fair.The heart is kindled by it,And lifted as with wine,In Lassington and Highnam—The woodlands that were mine.

Herewhere no tree changes,Here in a prison of pine,I think how Autumn rangesThe country that is mine.

Herewhere no tree changes,

Here in a prison of pine,

I think how Autumn ranges

The country that is mine.

There—rust upon the chill breeze—The woodland leaf now whirls;There sway the yellowing birchesLike dainty dancing girls.

There—rust upon the chill breeze—

The woodland leaf now whirls;

There sway the yellowing birches

Like dainty dancing girls.

Oh, how the leaves are dancingWith Death at Lassington!And Death is now enhancingBeauty I walked upon.

Oh, how the leaves are dancing

With Death at Lassington!

And Death is now enhancing

Beauty I walked upon.

The roads with leaves are littered,Yellow, brown, and red.The homes where robins twitteredLie ruin; but instead

The roads with leaves are littered,

Yellow, brown, and red.

The homes where robins twittered

Lie ruin; but instead

Gaunt arms of stretching giantsStand in the azure air,Cutting the sky in patternSo common, yet so fair.

Gaunt arms of stretching giants

Stand in the azure air,

Cutting the sky in pattern

So common, yet so fair.

The heart is kindled by it,And lifted as with wine,In Lassington and Highnam—The woodlands that were mine.

The heart is kindled by it,

And lifted as with wine,

In Lassington and Highnam—

The woodlands that were mine.


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