. . . this morning.
In my Autumn garden I was fain
To mourn among my scattered roses;
Alas for that last rosebud that uncloses
To Autumn’s languid sun and rain
When all the world is on the wane!— Christina Rossetti, from “An October Garden”
. . . this morning.
In my Autumn garden I was fain
To mourn among my scattered roses;
Alas for that last rosebud that uncloses
To Autumn’s languid sun and rain
When all the world is on the wane!— Christina Rossetti, from “An October Garden”
enclos*ure 