Efterårets Lyksagelighed & Sorg

Jeg synes, at efteråret er så smukt, og vil gerne mindes min dejlige mor, som forlod os ved denne tid sidste år. Det kan nok ikke gøres smukkere end med disse lånte ord af Elisabeth Barrett Browning. Go, sit upon the lofty Hill, And turn your eyes around, Where waving woods and Waters wild Do hymn an Autumn sound. The summer Sun is faint on them The summer Flowers depart Sit still — as all transform’d to Stone, Except your musing Heart. How there you sat in Summertime, May yet be in your Mind; And how you heard the green Woods sing Beneath the freshening Wind. Though the same Wind now blows around, You would its Blast recall; For every Breath that stirs the´Trees, Doth cause a Leaf to fall. Oh! like that Wind, is all the mirth That Flesh and Dust impart: We cannot bear its visitings, When change is on the Heart. Gay words and jests may make us smile, When Sorrow is asleep; But other things must make us smile, When Sorrow...