Page:Bridge of Fire.djvu/63



there be any grief For those lost eremites That live in lonely tombs, It is on Autumn nights, At falling of the leaf; It is when pale October, Relentless tree-disrober, Invades the silent homes.

But him no Autumn's chill Shall have the power to harm: Predominant, his lyre Shall keep remembrance warm And leave him lovely still: And spirits softly winging Shall listen to his singing, And weep for his desire.