The Autumn

Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them,
The summer flowers depart,
Sit still, as all transform'd to stone,
Except your musing heart.

How there you sat in summer-time, May yet be in your mind; And how you heard the green woods sing Beneath the freshening wind. Though the same wind now blows around, You would its blast recall; For ...

Follow The Behemoth on Twitter and Facebook.