Rhymes of Old Plimouth

by Herbert Randall

THE AUTUMN RAIN.

Mother of Darkness, Mother of Pain,

White on the rim of the autumn rain,

Pressing the cold of your cheek to my face,

Roving the infinite hills of space,

Wandering, wandering everywhere,

Wearing a leaf that is dead in your hair,

Mother of Darkness, Mother of Pain,

White on the rim of the autumn rain.