The Autumn Fan

O fair white silk, fresh from the weaver’s


Clear as the frost, bright as the winter

snow –

See! friendship fashions out of thee a fan,

Round as the round moon shines in heaven

above ;

At home, abroad, a close companion thou,

Stirring at every move the grateful gale ,

And yet I fear, ah me! that autumn chills,

Cooling the dying summer’s torrid rage,

Will see thee laid neglected on the shelf,

All thought of by gone days, like them


The Lady Pan, 1st cent. B.C.

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