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My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.
Source: My November Guest.
-- Robert Frost, (Mar 26 1874-1963), US poet; He was America's unofficial poet laureate who wrote of rural New England, e.g., The Road Not Taken.