Frances Cornford (1886–1960)

I RAN out in the morning when the air was clean and new,

And all the grass was glittering and grey with autumn dew;

I ran out to the apple-tree and pull’d an apple down,

And all the bells were ringing in the grey old town.

Down in the town off the bridges and the grass

They are sweeping up the leaves to let the people pass,—

Sweeping up the old leaves, golden-reds and browns,

Whilst the men go to lecture with the wind in their gowns.