Autumn Love

The autumn brought my love to me.
The birds sing not in spring alone;
For fancy all the year is free
To find a sweetness of its own:
And sallow woods and crystal morn
Were sweeter than the budded thorn.

When redwings peopled brake and down
I kissed her mouth: in morning air
The rosy clover dried to brown
Beneath thro' all its glowing square.
Around the bramble berries set
Their beaded globes intenser jet.

True love, I whispered, when I fold
To mine thy little lips so sweet,
The headland trembles into gold,
The sun goes up on firmer feet.
And drenched in glory one by one
The terrace clouds will melt and run.