September’s End
Reading edition
In the ash tree There is a soft rustling, Lingering, like A silken whisper, Quite different Than sound the other trees; As if the bronzy leaves Had much to say Before they part, And were loath To bid farewell.
Reading edition
In the ash tree There is a soft rustling, Lingering, like A silken whisper, Quite different Than sound the other trees; As if the bronzy leaves Had much to say Before they part, And were loath To bid farewell.