Explore "Old Melbourne Memories" by Rolf Boldrewood on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It is Autumn, it is sunset, magic shower of tint and hue; / All the west is hung with banners, white with golden, crimson, blue; / Drooping folds! far floating, mingling, falling on the river's face; / Upturned, placid, silver-mirrored, gazing into endless space.
Faint the breath of eve, low-sighing for bright summer's fading charms; / Woodland cries are echoing, chiming with the sounds from distant farms; / And the stubble fires are gleaming red athwart the wood's deep shade, / While the marsh mist, slowly rising, shrouds the greenery of the glade.