Autumn Day
Lord:
This is the time. The Summer was
         immense.
Upon the sun-dials now spread out your
        shade,
And on our open doorways loose the
        winds.

Command the ripeness of the harvest's
        fruit;
Let two last afternoons of southerly
        warmth
Cheer a heavy sweetness to the last wine
And overbrim the year’s maturity.

The homeless shall not think of building
         homes.
The lonely now will know long loneliness,
Will write long letters, read, wake through
        the night,
And down gray avenues, erratic and alone
Will wander restless as the blowing leaves.