A SONG.
’Tis autumn and down in the fieldsThe buckwheat is browning still:Gather yourself in your cloak,The winter is over the hill.There’s a cloud of black in the north,The aurora is smouldering behind,There are stars in the parting clouds,And a touch of frost in the wind.Down in the icy dewThe crickets are cheering shrill:“There is time for another song,Though winter is over the hill.”Out of the great black cloudThe aurora leaps and flies,Pushing its phosphor spikesIn the deeps of the violet skies.The moon is wrapped in a film,She looks wan and chill:Gather yourself in your cloak,The winter is over the hill.
’Tis autumn and down in the fieldsThe buckwheat is browning still:Gather yourself in your cloak,The winter is over the hill.There’s a cloud of black in the north,The aurora is smouldering behind,There are stars in the parting clouds,And a touch of frost in the wind.Down in the icy dewThe crickets are cheering shrill:“There is time for another song,Though winter is over the hill.”Out of the great black cloudThe aurora leaps and flies,Pushing its phosphor spikesIn the deeps of the violet skies.The moon is wrapped in a film,She looks wan and chill:Gather yourself in your cloak,The winter is over the hill.
’Tis autumn and down in the fieldsThe buckwheat is browning still:Gather yourself in your cloak,The winter is over the hill.
’Tis autumn and down in the fields
The buckwheat is browning still:
Gather yourself in your cloak,
The winter is over the hill.
There’s a cloud of black in the north,The aurora is smouldering behind,There are stars in the parting clouds,And a touch of frost in the wind.
There’s a cloud of black in the north,
The aurora is smouldering behind,
There are stars in the parting clouds,
And a touch of frost in the wind.
Down in the icy dewThe crickets are cheering shrill:“There is time for another song,Though winter is over the hill.”
Down in the icy dew
The crickets are cheering shrill:
“There is time for another song,
Though winter is over the hill.”
Out of the great black cloudThe aurora leaps and flies,Pushing its phosphor spikesIn the deeps of the violet skies.
Out of the great black cloud
The aurora leaps and flies,
Pushing its phosphor spikes
In the deeps of the violet skies.
The moon is wrapped in a film,She looks wan and chill:Gather yourself in your cloak,The winter is over the hill.
The moon is wrapped in a film,
She looks wan and chill:
Gather yourself in your cloak,
The winter is over the hill.