This sunlight shames November where he grieves
In dead red leaves, and will not let him shun
The day, though bough with bough be over-run.
But with a blessing every glade receives
High salutation; while from hillock-eaves
The deer gaze calling, dappled white and dun,
As if, being foresters of old, the sun
Had marked them with the shade of forest-leaves.
Here dawn to-day unveiled her magic glass;
Here noon now gives the thirst and takes the dew;
Till eve bring rest when other good things pass.
And here the lost hours the lost hours renew
While I still lead my shadow o'er the grass,
Nor know, for longing, that which I should do.
Sonnet Lxix: Autumn Idleness
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Poem topics: magic, red, sun, grass, white, shadow, good, shade, bring, high, gaze, sunlight, glass, dawn, lost, Valentine's Day, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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