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September Too Shalt Pass

PostPosted: Mon Oct 17, 2011 11:13 pm
by MuseAloft
Crimson stains not thy ephemeral days,
Brimful of thy frost's cruel breath -
Yet thine divine paints do yet stay
Upon thy memory of man, like death's

Callous shadow, yet not as dim, no
Never as dim as death, though
Death 'tis, death of summer's glow,
Of gemmy stars far-flung - aye, row!

Charon, steer across thine accursed river
The soul of midsummer, thy sweet life
Of thy emerald leaves, nymphs who shiver
And dance upon June zephyrs! 'Tis strife

That now they all shalt fall, crimson blood
And yellow illness on their cheeks! Listless
Upon thy dewy grass, a motionless flood
Of thy souls of sylvan lands, lands restless,

Awaiting winter's cruel howl. Thou 'tis not lost!
Tremble not, o! oak tree, thine life shalt last
Beyond thy wicked grip of autumn's fragranced frost -
September too shalt pass.