Morning Mist

I saw old Autumn in the misty morn

Stand shadowless like silence, listening

To silence, for no lonely bird would sing

Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn,

Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn;—

Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright

With tangled gossamer that fell by night,

Pearling his coronet of golden corn.

~Thomas Hood : Autumn (1798-1845)