Autumn now comes, and we must not recoil
from welcoming the changing of the year
and the sharp clarity of morning air
as mind and body cease at last to boil.
I take a moment from the weekend's toil
to think about the things for which I care,
a simple moment that I need to spare
a sort of lubrication with sweet oil.
None of the days to come will be pure joy
but I look forward to a working time
when all that happens has an upward trend;
time and experience do not humour cloy,
another bell will have a clearer chime
and every year comes down to a clean end.