and easy on my dreary eyes, marvelously awakened
by the count of yellow leaves upon your still-lush boughs
that hold their babes do dearly tight
now Autumn you lied with Spring to birth
this child of yours—a mild cloudless thing
who sings castrotti in the breeze
that lulls my dreary eyes closed
o Autumn, this day is a step up for i
and my dreary eyes to lie themselves upon
the face of God who baptized this day
with warming, calm sunlight
now Autumn let my dreary eyes
forever gaze upon your sweet facade.
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