In scarlet clusters o'er the grey stone-wall The barberries lean in thin autumnal air: Just when the fields and garden-plots are bare, And ere the green leaf takes the tint of fall, They come to make the eye a festival! Along the road, for miles, their torches flare.


The Poems of Thomas Bailey Aldrich, Sonnets


In scarlet clusters o'er the grey stone-wall The barberries lean in thin autumnal air: Just when the fields and garden-plots are bare, And ere the...

In scarlet clusters o'er the grey stone-wall The barberries lean in thin autumnal air: Just when the fields and garden-plots are bare, And ere the...

In scarlet clusters o'er the grey stone-wall The barberries lean in thin autumnal air: Just when the fields and garden-plots are bare, And ere the...

In scarlet clusters o'er the grey stone-wall The barberries lean in thin autumnal air: Just when the fields and garden-plots are bare, And ere the...