How does your sad, yet calm and cheerful guise,
Ye melancholy Autumn solitudes,
With my own feelings softly harmonize!
For though I love the hoar and solemn woods,
In all their manifold and changing moods—
In gloom and sunshine, storm and quietness,
By day, or when the dim night on them broods;
Their lightsome glades, their darker mysteries—
Yet the sad heart loves a still, calm scene like this.
Soon will the year like this sweet day have fled,