Autumn hath shed a many times

Autum hath shed a many times
Its leaves & winters powderd rymes
Hath melted from the freshning lea
When spring gun swell the flower & tree
Since I as brother dwelt wi joy
& livd all life desird a boy
& oft as winter left them bare
Spring hath returnd & reveld there
But I have tryd all roads in vain
None leadeth to the past again.
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