Ah me! too soon the autumn comes <br />Among these purple-plaintive hills! <br />Too soon among the forest gums <br />Premonitory flame she spills, <br />Bleak, melancholy flame that kills. <br /> <br />Her white fogs veil the morn, that rims <br />With wet the moonflower's elfin moons; <br />And, like exhausted starlight, dims <br />The last slim lily-disk; and swoons <br />With scents of hazy afternoons. <br /> <br />Her gray mists haunt the sunset skies, <br />And build the west's cadaverous fires, <br />Where Sorrow sits with lonely eyes, <br />And hands that wake an ancient lyre, <br />Beside the ghost of dead Desire.<br /><br />Madison Julius Cawein<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/autumn-sorrow/
