Vae Victis!

Here in this

The summer still lingers,

And Autumn's brown fingers    So busy the while    With the leaves in the north;    Are scarcely put

In this land where the sun still glows like an ember,.    In mid-November.    In England it's cold,

And the yellow and

Of October have fled ;    And the sun is wet gold    Like an emperor weeping,    When Death goes

All through his empire, merciless comer    The dead things of summer.    The sky has cried

That the earth is all sodden,

With dead leaves in-trodden,    And the trees to and fro    Wave their arms in the air    In despair, in despair :

They are thinking of all the hot days that are over,    And the cows in the clover.    Here the roses are out,

And the sun at high

Makes the birds faint and swoon.    But the cricket's about    With his song, and the hum    Of the bees as they

To feast at the honey-board laden and groaning,    Makes musical droning.    But vainly, alas !

Do I hide in the south,

Kiss close with my mouth    Red flowers, green grass,    For Autumn has found me    And thrown her arms around me.

She has breathed on my lips and I wander apart,    Dead leaves in my heart.