NOVEMBER IN ENGLAND.
No sun—no moon!
No morn—no noon—
No dawn—no dusk—no proper time of day—
No sky—no earthly view—
No distance, looking blue—
No road—no street—no t’other side the way—
No end to any “row”—
No indications where the “crescents”
No top to any steeple—
No recognitions of familiar people—
No courtesies for showing ’em—
No knowing ’em!—
No traveling at all—no locomotion—
No inkling of the way—no notion—
“No go,” by land or ocean—
No mail—no post—
No news from any foreign coast—
No park, no ring—no afternoon gentility—
No company, or nobility—
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member—
No shade—no shine—no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds.
November!
T. Hood.