"The gilding of the Indian summer mellowed the pastures far and wide
The russet woods stood ripe to be stripped, but were yet full of leaf.
The purple of heath-bloom, faded but not withered, tinged the hills....
Fieldhead gardens bore the seal of gentle decay;
....its time of flowers and even of fruit was over."

The russet woods stood ripe to be stripped, but were yet full of leaf.
....its time of flowers and even of fruit was over."

from Shirley ~ Charlotte Brontë














