AUTUMN SONG by Sarojini Naidu

      

        LIKE a joy on the heart of a sorrow,
        The sunset hangs on a cloud;
        A golden storm of glittering sheaves,
        Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves,
        The wild wind blows in a cloud.
        
        Hark to a voice that is calling
        To my heart in the voice of the wind:
        My heart is weary and sad and alone,
        For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone,
        And why should I stay behind?

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