I saw old autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence.
Lives of great men oft remind us as we o'er their pages turn, That we too may leave behind us - Letters that we ought to burn.
Extremes meet', as the whiting said with its tail in its mouth.
For my part, getting up seems not so easy By half as lying.
The year's in wane; There is nothing adorning; The night has no eve, And the day has no morning; Cold winter gives warning!
No sun, no moon, no morn, no noon, No dawn, no dusk, no proper time of day, . . . . . . No road, no street, no t' other side the way, . . . . . . No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no buds.