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Autumn Chant
Autumn Chant
Poetry

Now the autumn shudders
In the rose's root,
Far and wide the ladders
Lean among the fruit.

Now the autumn clambers
Up the trellised frame
And the rose remembers
The dust from which it came.

Brighter than the blossom
On the rose's bough
Sits the wizened orange,
Bitter berry now;

Beauty never slumbers;
All is in her name;
But the rose remembers
The dust from which it came.

Adapted from "Autumn Chant" in The Harp Weaver and Other Poems.

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