I would I might be with thee, when the year <br />Begins to wane, and that thou walk'st alone <br />Upon the rocky strand, whilst loud and clear, <br />The autumn wind sings, from his cloudy throne, <br />Wild requiems for the summer that is gone. <br />Or when, in sad and contemplative mood, <br />Thy feet explore the leafy-paven wood: <br />I would my soul might reason then with thine, <br />Upon those themes most solemn and most strange, <br />Which every falling leaf and fading flower, <br />Whisper unto us with a voice divine; <br />Filling the brief space of one mortal hour <br />With fearful thoughts of death, decay, and change, <br />And the high mystery of that after birth, <br />That comes to us, as well as to the earth.<br /><br />Frances Anne Kemble<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-harriet-st-leger/
