Sonnet Variation: Anna Seward's Sonnet 92
Behold that tree, in Autum's dim decay!
With yellow, brown, and red it greets the wind
and underneath its boughs the eye may find
a tuft or two of bloom in final spray.
The year is rushing emerald away;
so also all the days of humankind,
who having lost the light by God designed
now slowly autumnize by hour and day.
Yet never give the gold-red season scorn;
decay may come to each and death appall,
but bright autumnal beauty crowns each morn
and through the rustling leaves the winds still call;
the summer may be gone, but not forlorn
am I; there's poetry enough in fall.
