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Maples in autumn.

How fairly shows yon distant maple, shedding
     Its blood-red leaves upon the forest ground,
Those very leaves that not long since were wedding
     The young spring breeze with modest rustling sound!
Its yearly tribute done, 'twill be left standing
     To wrestle naked with the winter breeze,
And, by such change deciduous, grow commanding
     And flourish lofty 'mid its sister trees.
Might we too shed, in patient courage hopeful
     Our brilliant dreams, soft falling one by one,
While with God's love, like sap, our veins still flow full,
     We shall not need the wild wind's benison,
But though most desolate our fortune seemeth
     May yet bud greener than the wanderer dreameth.

Susan Louisa Higginson (lived in Cambridge, 1820-1842).

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