Assumed a dim and dusky grey;
And Autumn, o’er my feelings threw
The coloring of its own decay,
And filled my heart with sorrow.
I, in my mind, was pondering o’er
The miseries that beset the preacher:
The persecutions which he bore—
(The scoff and scorn of every creature—)
His heated brain—his frame worn down,
Emaciated and dyspeptic—