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RURAL HOURS.
given; for very many of the English poets seem to have felt a November chill at their fingers' ends when alluding to the subject.
The writers of France tell much the same tale of Autumn, across the Channel.
“Plus pâle, que la pâle automne,”
says Millevoye, in his touching lament.
| “la pâle Automne |
| D'une main languissante, effeuillant sa couronne,” |
writes Delille; and again,
| “Dirai-je à quels désastres, |
| De l'Automne orageux nous exposent les astres?” |
And again,
| “Voyez comment l'Automne nébuleux |
| Tous les ans, pour gémir, nous amène en ces lieux.” |
St. Lambert tells us of fogs and mists, in his sing-song verses, his “ormeaux, et rameaux, et hameaux.”
| “ | Ces voiles suspendus qui cachent à la terre |
| Le ciel qui la couronne, et l'astre qui l'éclaire | |
| Préparent les mortels au retour des frimas. | |
| Mais la feuille en tombant, du pampre dépouillé | |
| Découvre le raisin, de rubis émaillé.” |
Observe that he was the especial poet of the seasons, and bound to fidelity in their behalf; and yet, painting Autumn during the vintage, he already covers the sky with clouds, and talks of “frimas.”
