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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=506573" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Autumn.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=506573" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I in the autumn of my days<br>Stand by a place of tears,<br>And hear the unborn children weep<br>Within the unborn years;<br>And feel how all God's sorrow must<br>Go wailing on until<br>Man's autumn, too, is past, and he<br>May winter from all ill.<br>* * * * *<br>A pale light in the fading wood,<br>The sob of dying leaves —<br>A lorn bird lying in the dusk<br>Of life that wakes and grieves!<br>O mournful heart whose love is dust,<br>In the decaying wood<br>Death's deepening mystery will cling<br>Round thee like solitude.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Robert+Crawford">Robert Crawford</a></strong></div>

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