< Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu
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AUTUMN SADNESS.
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Shall my soul, no frosts may tame,
Catch new flame
From the incandescent air?
In this nuptial joy apart,
Oh my heart,
Whither shall we lonely fare?
Seek some dusky, twilight spot,
Quite forgot
Of the Autumn’s Bacchic fire.
Where soft mists and shadows sleep,
There outweep
Barren longing s vain desire.
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