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Autumn

  The autumn comes, a maiden fair
    In slenderness and grace,
  With nodding rice-stems in her hair
    And lilies in her face.
  In flowers of grasses she is clad;
    And as she moves along,
  Birds greet her with their cooing glad
    Like bracelets' tinkling song.

  A diadem adorns the night
    Of multitudinous stars;
  Her silken robe is white moonlight,
    Set free from cloudy bars;
  And on her face (the radiant moon)
    Bewitching smiles are shown:
  She seems a slender maid, who soon
    Will be a woman grown.

  Over the rice-fields, laden plants
    Are shivering to the breeze;
  While in his brisk caresses dance
    The blossom-burdened trees;
  He ruffles every lily-pond
    Where blossoms kiss and part,
  And stirs with lover's fancies fond
    The young man's eager heart.