Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night’s decay
Ushers in a drearier day.
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Fall, Leaves, Fall
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Fall, Leaves, Fall
By Emily Brontë
Oct 10, 2022
Fall, Leaves, Fall