Snowwark
10-19-2002, 07:18 AM
The gilding of the Indian summer mellowed the pastures far and wide.
The russet woods stood ripe to be stript, but were yet full of leaf.
The purple of heath-bloom, faded but not withered, tinged the hills..
Fieldhead gardens bore the seal of gentle decay, ...it's time of flowers and even of fruit was over.
- Charlotte Bronte
The russet woods stood ripe to be stript, but were yet full of leaf.
The purple of heath-bloom, faded but not withered, tinged the hills..
Fieldhead gardens bore the seal of gentle decay, ...it's time of flowers and even of fruit was over.
- Charlotte Bronte