O Autumn! thou hast splendidly array'd
     Nature, whose robes are treasure-rich with colour.
A patchy quilt of dying leaves decay'd,
     Thou blanketest the world with deathly dolour.
I hear a voice inside my head.  I list.
     "Come buy, come buy," I hear in my mind's ear.
My pulse doth quicken suddenly in my wrist:
     The netherworld hath never been so near.
I harken to the rattling of the leaves
     That hang like vampyre bats from skeletal trees.
The songful birds that nested 'neath the eaves
     Have long since flown away with high degrees.
I'm cold and getting colder, and my breath
Is telling me I'm close to coming Death.