Autumn Day

Lord, it is time. The summer was so great

Impose upon the sundials now your shadows

And around the meadows let the winds rotate

Commands the last fruits to incarnadine;

Vouchsafe, to urge them on into completeness

Yet two more south-like days; and that last sweetness

Inveigle it into the heavy vine

He'll not build now, who has no house awaiting

Who's now alone, for long will so remain:

Sit late, read, write long letters, and again

Return to restlessly perambulating

The avеnues of parks when leavеs downrain