Autumn

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XXVIII. AUTUMN.

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown ;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I 'll put a trinket on.

 
from Poems by Emily Dickinson (1890)

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