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Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods, And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt, And night by night the monitory blast Wails in the key-hole, telling how it pass'd O'er empty fields, or upland solitudes, Or grim wide wave; and now the power is felt Of melancholy, tenderer in its moods Than any joy indulgent Summer dealt. Author: William Allingham.. This image was shot at Patoka Lake. Behind the tree dense fog covered the water. Hope you enjoy, all comments are enjoyed. Dwight.