From early morning-nonsense With tubs and troughs and strain, With dampness in the evening And sunsets in the rain. Deep sighing of the darkness And choking swallowed tears, A railway engine`s calling Down from the sixteenth verst. Outside and in the garden A short fast-darkening day; Small breakages and losses In true September way. In daytime autumn`s vastness Beyond the stream is rent By wailing in the graveyard, By anguish and lament. But when the widow`s sobbing Is carried from the bank, With all my blood I`m with her And see my death point-blank. As every year I see it Out of the hall downstairs, The long-delayed approaching Of this my final year. Through leaves in yellow terror, Its way swept clear, I see That winter from the hillside Is staring down at me.SourceThe script ran 0.008 seconds.
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