Poems (Taylor)/Autumn-Song

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AUTUMN-SONG
The roads are laid with cloth-of-gold;
 And O'er the splendour, all alone,
Clad fair in scarlet, like a king,
 Love cometh to his own.

A crown of thorns, a sceptral reed,
 The beauty of a flaming throne!
From out the pleasant orchard-lands
 Love cometh to his own.

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