I like on Autumn evenings to ride out,

Without being forced to bid my groom be sure

My cloak is round his middle strapped about,

Because the skies are not the most secure;

I know too that, if stopped upon my route,

Where the green alleys windingly allure,

Reeling with grapes red wagons choke the way,—

In England 'twould be dung, dust, or a dray.