Ii

In youth we love the darksome lawn Brushed by the owlet's wing; Then, Twilight is preferred to Dawn, And Autumn to the Spring.[CP] Sad fancies do we then affect, In luxury of disrespect To our own prodigal excess Of too familiar happiness. Lycoris (if such name befit Thee, thee my life's celestial sign!)[CQ] When Nature marks the year's decline, Be ours to welcome it; Pleased with the harvest hope that runs Before the path of milder suns; Pleased while the sylvan world displays Its ripeness to the feeding gaze; Pleased when the sullen winds resound the knell Of the resplendent miracle.