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On my cornice linger the ripe black grapes ungathered Children fill the groves with the echoes of their glee, Gathering tawny chestnuts, and shouting when beside them Drops the heavy fruit of the tall black-walnut tree.

William C. Bryant

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William C. Bryant
Gathering
Glee
Tall
Drops
Tawny
Fill
Grapes
Walnut
Fruit
Shouting
Walnuts
Heavy
November
Groves
Tree
Ripe
Chestnuts
Black
Beside
Linger
Children
Echoes
Grove

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The journalist should be on his guard against publishing what is false in taste or exceptionable in morals.
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So they, who climb to wealth, forget The friends in darker fortunes tried. I copied them--but I regret That I should ape the ways of pride.
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I hear the howl of the wind that brings The long drear storm on its heavy wings.
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