by
Adelaide Crapsey (American, 1878-1914)
November Night
Listen. .
With faint dry sound,
Like steps of passing ghosts,
The leaves, frost-crisp'd, break from the trees
And fall.
Niagara
Seen on a Night in November
How frail
Above the bulk
Of crashing water hangs,
Autumn, evanescent, wan,
The moon.
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