The warm sun is falling, the bleak wind is wailing,
The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying,
And the Year
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This is a beautiful poem. There isn't one poem by Shelley that isn't oozing with beauty and imagination. I love this.
speechless....very apt poem for last year's chennai flood though this was written long ago...highly descriptive.. Salute you sir- -10+++++