In days grown long,
In fading sun,
With weeping shadows,
With waving tall grass,
Wind-raked trees,
Rain-soaked sand,
Amber moon,
In cock-crow dusk,
falling brown leaves
Land at my feet.
The air is crisp,
Northerly damp.
Harvest fields fallow,
Beneath cloud-cracked sky,
Between golden-red hills,
Along mud-tramped lanes,
Under red-leaf parasols,
Past weathered thatch fen…
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