WILD CLEMATIS. 



But when Autumn days are here, 



And the woods of Autumn burn, 

 Then her leaves are black and sere, 



Quick with early frosts to turn! 

 As the golden Summer dies, 

 So her silky green has fled, 

 And the smoky clusters rise 

 As from fires of sacrifice, 

 Sacred incense to the dead ! 

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