“Hush!” said the Lauréat, colouring deeply,—
“breathe not! Stir not!” And a voice of surpassing sweetness sang
Farewell Autumn's shady bowers,
Purple fruits and fragrant flowers,
Golden fields of waving com,
And merry lark that wakes the mom I
Earth a mournful silence keeps,
See, the dewy landscape weeps!
Hark! thro* yonder lonely dell
Gentle zephyrs sigh farewell!