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Sunset in England at the autumn prime!
Through foliage rare, what floods of light were sent!
The full and whitening harvest knew its time,
And to the sickle of the reaper bent;
Forth rode the winged seeds upon the gale,
New homes to find; but she, with lip so pale,
Who on the arm of her beloved leant,
Breathed words of tenderness, with smile serene,
Though faint and full of toil, the gasp and groan between.
Through foliage rare, what floods of light were sent!
The full and whitening harvest knew its time,
And to the sickle of the reaper bent;
Forth rode the winged seeds upon the gale,
New homes to find; but she, with lip so pale,
Who on the arm of her beloved leant,
Breathed words of tenderness, with smile serene,
Though faint and full of toil, the gasp and groan between.
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