O love$$$ turn from the changing sea and gaze$$$<br>Down these grey slopes$$$ upon the year grown old$$$<br>A-dying 'mid the autumn-scented haze<br>That hangeth o'er the hollow in the wold$$$<br>Where the wind-bitten ancient elms infold<br>Grey church$$$ long barn$$$ orchard$$$ and red-roofed stead$$$<br>Wrought in dead days for men a long while dead.<br>Come down$$$ O love; may not our hands still meet$$$<br>Since still we live today$$$ forgetting June$$$<br>Forgetting May$$$ deeming October sweet? <br>- - Oh$$$ hearken! hearken! through the afternoon<br>The grey tower sings a strange old tinkling tune!<br>Sweet$$$ sweet$$$ and sad$$$ the toiling year's last breath$$$<br>To satiate of life$$$ to strive with death.<br>And we too -will it not be soft and kind$$$<br>That rest from life$$$ from patience$$$ and from pain$$$<br>That rest from bliss we know not when we find$$$<br>That rest from love which ne'er the end can gain?<br>- Hark! how the tune swells$$$ that erewhile did wane!<br>Look up$$$ love! <br>-Ah! cling close$$$ and never move!<br>How can I have enough of life and love?
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