Now my sere fancy 'falls into the yellow
Leaf,' and imagination droops her pinion,
And the sad truth which hovers o'er my desk
Turns what was once romantic to burlesque.


Don Juan (1819–24) canto 4, st. 3


Now my sere fancy 'falls into the yellow Leaf,' and imagination droops her pinion, And the sad truth which hovers o'er my desk Turns what was once...

Now my sere fancy 'falls into the yellow Leaf,' and imagination droops her pinion, And the sad truth which hovers o'er my desk Turns what was once...

Now my sere fancy 'falls into the yellow Leaf,' and imagination droops her pinion, And the sad truth which hovers o'er my desk Turns what was once...

Now my sere fancy 'falls into the yellow Leaf,' and imagination droops her pinion, And the sad truth which hovers o'er my desk Turns what was once...