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Francis Ledwidge (Фрэнсис Ледвидж)


Autumn


Now leafy winds are blowing cold,
And South by West the sun goes down,
A quiet huddles up the fold
In sheltered corners of the brown.

Like scattered fire the wild fruit strews
The ground beneath the blowing tree,
And there the busy squirrel hews
His deep and secret granary.

And when the night comes starry clear,
The lonely quail complains beside
The glistening waters on the mere
Where widowed Beauties yet abide.

And I, too, make my own complaint
Upon a reed I plucked in June,
And love to hear it echoed faint
Upon another heart in tune. 



Francis Ledwidge's other poems:
  1. In France
  2. A Little Boy In The Morning
  3. The Call To Ireland
  4. June
  5. Una Bawn


Poems of other poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):

  • Thomas Hood (Томас Гуд (Худ)) Autumn ("I Saw old Autumn in the misty morn")
  • Samuel Johnson (Сэмюэл Джонсон) Autumn ("Alas! with swift and silent pace")
  • John Clare (Джон Клэр) Autumn ("The thistledown's flying, though the winds are all still")
  • William Morris (Уильям Моррис) Autumn ("Laden Autumn here I stand")
  • Anna Barbauld (Анна-Летиция Барбо) Autumn ("Farewell the softer hours, Spring's opening blush")
  • Philip Bailey (Филип Бэйли) Autumn ("Tis Autumn--and the winds are high")
  • Thomas Nashe (Томас Нэш) Autumn ("Autumn hath all the summer's fruitful treasure")

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