North Wind in Autumn

I WOKE at midnight, when the moon was low
And every star shone strangely still and clear;
And my heart sank within me, love, to hear,
Over the breathless earth, that solemn, slow,
Mysterious, warm wind begin to blow.
Over vast plains it wanders, lifeless, sere,
Where no green thing remains ; and to my ear
It is the wind of death. Some night, I know
That wind will he a voice of utter woe,
When I lie staring out upon the drear,
Dead waste of life, where you are not. But oh,
You shall not go alone, and leave me here !
Lay your dear hand in mine, my love, and so
Let us go forth together when we go.

Anna Head.