Reds, golds and ambers cover the trees
Cascades of leaves all dance on the breeze.
Twisting and twirling with effortless grace
Balletic visions all over the place.
...
Split the Lark—and you'll find the Music—
Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled—
Scantilly dealt to the Summer Morning
Saved for your Ear when Lutes be old.