AUTUMN. October's winds have swept the leaves away; The basking fields have felt the coming chill; The rippling stream has lost its merry play, And lies, in brooding sadness, calm and still. The long streaked furrow wooes the westering sun, To bless the ground where sinks the seed to sleep; And fallen trunks drop piecemeal, one by one, To form the farmer's winter fuel heap
Caption

AUTUMN. October's winds have swept the leaves away; The basking fields have felt the coming chill; The rippling stream has lost its merry play, And lies, in brooding sadness, calm and still. The long streaked furrow wooes the westering sun, To bless the ground where sinks the seed to sleep; And fallen trunks drop piecemeal, one by one, To form the farmer's winter fuel heap

Credit line

Photo12/Liszt Collection/Quint Lox Limited

Reference

LZT13A35_217

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Rights managed

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