This year I have seen autumn with new eyes, <br />Glimpsed hitherto undreamt of mysteries <br />In the slow ripening of the town-bred trees; <br />Horse-chestnut lifting wide hands to the skies; <br />And silver beech turned gold now winter's near; <br />And elm, whose leaves like little suns appear <br />Scattering light — all, all have made me wise <br />And writ me lectures in earth's loveliness, <br />Whether they laugh through the grey morning mist, <br />Or by the loving sun at noon are kissed <br />Or seek at night the high-swung lamp's caress. <br />Does autumn such a novel splendour wear <br />Simply because my love has yellow hair?<br /><br />Lesbia Harford<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/this-year-i-have-seen-autumn-with-new-eyes/
