IN AUTUMN WHEN THE WOODS ARE RED
In autumn when the woods are red
And skies are gray and clear,
The sportsmen seek the wild fowls' bed
Or follow down the deer;
And Cupid hunts by haugh and head,
By riverside and mere.
I walk, not seeing where I tread
And keep my heart with fear.
Sir, have an eye, on where you tread
And keep your heart with fear,
For something lingers here;
A touch of April not yet dead,
In Autumn when the woods are red
And skies are gray and clear.
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