Webs of Woven Words, Threads, Stitches and Enchantments

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Hallows Everyday 8

To Autumn

O Autumn, laden with fruit,
and stained with the blood of the grape,
Pass not, but sit beneath my shady roof;
There thou may'st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe;
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruit and flowers.

William Blake, 1793

Blessings nine!

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