november.
85
To the yellow tint of jealousy,
Then scattered by the winds, dispers'd and trampled lie!
Then scattered by the winds, dispers'd and trampled lie!
November, why does every brown
Droop, as thy dun cloud sails the sky,
Why do thy hours o'er mortals flow
Lagging and sullenly?
Seldom, dark Month, thy form is seen
To wear December's warrior mien;
Still does thy scanty verdure grow,
Unburied yet by winter's snow, all out
The storms, which soon shall burst amain,
With all their winds, a boisterous train.
But menace now—yet who but sighs
For louder winds, and wilder skies?
Who but looks onward with desired
To the clustering group, and social fire?
Droop, as thy dun cloud sails the sky,
Why do thy hours o'er mortals flow
Lagging and sullenly?
Seldom, dark Month, thy form is seen
To wear December's warrior mien;
Still does thy scanty verdure grow,
Unburied yet by winter's snow, all out
The storms, which soon shall burst amain,
With all their winds, a boisterous train.
But menace now—yet who but sighs
For louder winds, and wilder skies?
Who but looks onward with desired
To the clustering group, and social fire?
