deepundergroundpoetry.com

In The Dead Of October
In the deep blue yonder
Where the dusty pathways meander
The mist is thick
In the dead of October
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The lark hovers in the sky
A pair of happy butterflies
There's dancing and singing
A moment of heaven is passing by
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The blue mountain's majestic height
The pastures down, sleeping quite
Shepherds and silent flocks
A divine harmony, under God's light
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In October, yellow flowers grow
A clear autumn day, sun's aglow
Spring has left some shine,
To keep some more for the morrows
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The space is flat, and widely clear
Natures beauty nothing ever may smear
Where man has not trod.
There the truth is what shall appear
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In the mountain beyond the forest edge
After the sylvan spirits, aloes and sedge
Where the pines grow, evergreen
Along and far in the distance, have i to trudge
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Up to the oaken temple of the sacred tree
And the olden primitive dolmen cemetery
Where told, sleeps the ancient treasury
And the bone remains of the roman majesty
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