The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, February 9, 1902, Page 9
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How are the veins of thee, Autumn, laden? Umbered juices And pulped oozes, Pappy out of the cherry bruises, Froth the veins of thee, wild, wild maiden! With hair that musters In globed clusters, In tumbling clusters like swathy grapes Round thy brow and thine ears o’ershaden; With the burning darkness of eyes like pansies, Like velvet pansies W here through escapes The splendid might of thy conflagrate fancies! —Francis Thompson. — o) S 74BN > SECTIUR