THE EVENING STAR. Lo! in the painted oriel of the West, Of all her radiant garments, and reclines With slumber and soft dreams of love oppressed. O my beloved, my sweet Hesperus ! And from thy darkened window fades the light. AUTUMN. THOU Comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain, With banners, by great gales incessant fanned, Brighter than brightest silks of Samarcand, And stately oxen harnessed to thy wain! Thou standest, like imperial Charlemagne, Upon thy bridge of gold; thy royal hand Outstretched with benedictions o'er the land, Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain! |