AN AUTUMN REVERIE.
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BY WILLIAM FALCONER.
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Hail! ye lone woods, in Nature’s mourning clad;
Hail! ye sere leaves, low melting in the breeze;
Meet is thy reign, pale Autumn, for the sad,
And soft thy solace for the mind’s disease;
Again I hail thee, sabbath of the year!
Upon us kindly smile, for Winter winds are near!