A RONDEL
October, queen of autumn days,
With green and crimson leaves is crowned;
Her russet cheeks are sun-embrowned,
Her hair all golden in the haze:
She sits upon a throne ablaze,
Her limbs with royal robes are gowned—
October, queen of autumn days,
With green and crimson leaves encrowned
But now o'erwhelmed in sad amaze
She hears a far-off rising sound;
The hills and booming seas resound;
The plaintive wind her requiem plays—
October, queen of autumn days.