The lands are lit
With all the autumn blaze of Golden Rod;
And everywhere the Purple Asters nod
And bend and wave and flit.
130
HELEN HUNT: _Asters and Golden Rod._

I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
Stand shadowless like silence, listening
To silence, for no lonely bird would sing
Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn,
Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn.
131
HOOD: _Autumn._


=Avarice.=

The lust of gold succeeds the rags of conquest:
The lust of gold, unfeeling and remorseless!
The last corruption of degenerate man.
132
DR. JOHNSON: _Irene,_ Act i., Sc. 1.

So for a good old-gentlemanly vice,
I think I must take up with avarice.
133
BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto i., St. 216.

That disease