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our cares were “ as tlie morning cloud,” and our tears 
“ as the early dew that passeth away.” 
Ere yet pale Autumn on the leaf-strewn ground 
Sits like a widow, sad and desolate, 
Weeping, with mantle rent and head discrown’d, 
The vanish’d glory of her early state, 
She hath an hour of triumph and of pride, 
When, bless’d and blessing, through earth’s circuit wide 
She walks with laughing Plenty at her side. 
She looks around with warm, maturing smile, 
And waving harvests ask the reaper’s toil; 
She gives the vine (child of a southern sky) 
Its pulpy nectar, and its Tyrian dye; 
She ripens the green germ which Summer won 
From Spring’s empurpled blossoms, — and anon 
The orchard’s mossy boughs, with fruitage crown’d, 
Stoop with their mellow burden to the ground ; 
While in the tangled copse of tawny hue, 
The clustering hazel tempts tlie wanderer’s view. 
