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OCTOBER.
Trembling and shuddering with cold and fear,
Like one who seeks a shelter all in vain.
Like one who seeks a shelter all in vain.
The sobbing rain deplores the sad decline
Of all which erst was fair and sweet and young,
The tender fingers of the clambering vine
Are bruised against the trellis where they clung.
Of all which erst was fair and sweet and young,
The tender fingers of the clambering vine
Are bruised against the trellis where they clung.
Thus is my world dismantled, cold and bare;
The winter threatens, lowering and drear;—
Where are the pattering feet, the shining hair,
The eyes which made it always summer here?
The winter threatens, lowering and drear;—
Where are the pattering feet, the shining hair,
The eyes which made it always summer here?
