AUTUMN. 
AUTUMN. 
Attemper’d suns arise, 
Sweet-beam’d and shedding oft through lucid clouds 
A pleasing calm ; while, broad and brown below. 
Extensive harvests hang the heavy head. 
Rich, silent, deep, they stand ; for not a gale 
Rolls its light billows o’er the bending plain : 
A calm of plenty! 
Thomson. 
Who loves not Autumn’s joyous round. 
When corn, and wine, and oil abound ? 
Yet who would choose, however gay, 
A year of unrenewed decay 1 
Montgomery. 
No spring or summer’s beauty hath such grace 
As I have seen in one Autumnal face. 
Donne. 
Autumn tinges every fertile branch 
With blooming gold, and blushes like the morn. 
Akenside. 
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