I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
  Stand shadowless like silence, listening
    To silence, for no lonely bird would sing
      Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn,
        Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn;--
          Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright
            With tangled gossamer that fell by night,
              Pearling his coronet of golden corn.
 — Thomas Hood
  Autumn