Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods,
And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt,
And night by night the monitory blast
Wails in the key-hole, tell how it pass'd
O'er empty fields, or upland solitudes,
Or grim wide wave; and now the power is felt
Of melancholy, tenderer in its moods
Than any joy indulgent Summer dealt.
~William Allingham, Day and Night Songs -- Autumnal Sonnet
And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt,
And night by night the monitory blast
Wails in the key-hole, tell how it pass'd
O'er empty fields, or upland solitudes,
Or grim wide wave; and now the power is felt
Of melancholy, tenderer in its moods
Than any joy indulgent Summer dealt.
~William Allingham, Day and Night Songs -- Autumnal Sonnet
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