But see the fading many-colour'd woods, <br />Shade deepening over shade, the country round <br />Imbrown; a crowded umbrage, dusk, and dun, <br />Of every hue, from wan declining green <br />To sooty dark. These now the lonesome muse, <br />Low whispering, lead into their leaf-strewn walks, <br />And give the season in its latest view. <br />Meantime, light-shadowing all, a sober calm <br />Fleeces unbounded ether; whose least wave <br />Stands tremulous, uncertain where to turn <br />The dewy-skirted clouds imbibe the sun, <br />And through their lucid veil his soften'd force <br />Shed o'er the peaceful world. Then is the time, <br />To steal themselves from the degenerate crowd, <br />And soar above this little scene of things: <br />To tread low-thoughted vice beneath their feet; <br />To soothe the throbbing passions into peace; <br />And woo lone quiet in her silent walks. <br />The pale-descending year, yet pleasing still, <br />A gentler mood inspires; for now the leaf <br />Incessant rustles from the mournful grove; <br />Oft startling such as, studious, walk below, <br />And slowly circles through the waving air. <br />But should a quicker breeze amid the boughs <br />Sob, o'er the sky the leafy deluge streams; <br />Till, choked and matted with the dreary shower, <br />The forest-walks, at every rising gale, <br />Roll wide the wither'd waste, and whistle bleak. <br />Fled is the blasted verdure of the fields; <br />And, shrunk, into their beds, the flowery race <br />Their sunny robes resign. E'en what remain'd <br />Of stronger fruits falls from the naked tree; <br />And woods, fields, gardens, orchards, all around, <br />The desolated prospect thrills the soul.<br /><br />James Thomson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rambles-in-autumn/
