Besides the Autumn poets sing 

A few　prosaic days 

A little this side of the snow 

And that side of the Haze― 

A few incisive Morningsー 

A few Ascetic Eves― 

Gone―Mr.Bryant,s“Goldn Rod”―　 

And Mr.Thomson,s “sheaves.” 

Still, is the bustle in the Brook― 

Sealed are the spicy valves― 

Mesmeric fingers softly touch 

The Eyes of many Elves― 

Perhaps a squirrel msy remain― 

My sentiments to share― 

Grant me, Oh Load, a sunny mind― 

Thy windy will to bear! 

(Emily Dickinson)