Bitter for Sweet

40 of 137 · 1 min of reading

Summer is gone with all its roses,

Its sun and perfumes and sweet flowers,

Its warm air and refreshing showers:

And even Autumn closes.

Yea, Autumn's chilly self is going,

And winter comes which is yet colder;

Each day the hoar-frost waxes bolder,

And the last buds cease blowing.

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End of part 40 of 137