OCTOBER.
Bright yellow, red, and orange,The leaves come down in hosts;The trees are Indian princes,But soon they’ll turn to ghosts;The leathery pears and applesHang russet on the bough;It’s autumn, autumn, autumn late,’Twill soon be winter now.William Allingham.
Bright yellow, red, and orange,The leaves come down in hosts;The trees are Indian princes,But soon they’ll turn to ghosts;The leathery pears and applesHang russet on the bough;It’s autumn, autumn, autumn late,’Twill soon be winter now.William Allingham.
Bright yellow, red, and orange,The leaves come down in hosts;The trees are Indian princes,But soon they’ll turn to ghosts;The leathery pears and applesHang russet on the bough;It’s autumn, autumn, autumn late,’Twill soon be winter now.
Bright yellow, red, and orange,
The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian princes,
But soon they’ll turn to ghosts;
The leathery pears and apples
Hang russet on the bough;
It’s autumn, autumn, autumn late,
’Twill soon be winter now.
William Allingham.
William Allingham.