ODE
ON
AUTUMN
.
WRITTEN
IN
THE
YEAR
MDCCLXI
.
BY
THE
SAME
.
ADIEU
the
pleasing
rural
scene
,
Sequester'd
shades
and
meadows
green
,
The
field
thick
spread
with
sheaves
of
corn
,
The
walk
at
early
hour
of
morn
.
No
linnet's
salutary
song
Soft
echoes
now
the
sprays
among
:
No
nightingale's
more
plaintive
strain
Soothes
the
lone
peasant
on
the
plain
.
The
vales
their
chearful
green
resign
,
And
on
their
stems
the
flowers
decline
:
No
more
we
wish
to
pass
the
hour
Where
elms
and
lilacs
form
a
bower
.
And
see
the
swallows
leave
their
home
,
To
distant
,
warmer
climes
they
roam
;
Where
zephyrs
cool
and
grateful
showers
Still
wake
the
fair
autumnal
flowers
.
How
fade
the
glories
of
the
year
!
They
bloom
awhile
and
disappear
,
And
,
melancholy
truth
,
fond
man
!
Thy
life's
a
flower
,
thy
day's
a
span
.
Parent
of
All
!
tremendous
Power
!
Whom
every
realm
and
tongue
adore
,
Whose
mandate
form'd
earth's
spacious
plain
,
And
the
immeasurable
main
.
Prostrate
before
thy
throne
we
bow
,
Author
of
circling
seasons
Thou
!
O
hasten
happier
days
,
and
bring
One
glorious
,
One
Eternal
Spring
.