The Acrid Scents Of Autumn, Reminiscent Of Slinking Beasts, Make Me Fear Everything, Tear-Trembling Stars Of Autumn And The Snore Of The Night In My Ear. For Suddenly, Flush-Fallen, All My Life, In A Rush Of Shedding Away, Has Left Me Naked, Exposed On The Bush. I, On The Bush Of The Globe, Like A Newly-Naked Berry, Shrink Disclosed: But I Also Am Prowling As Well In The Scents That Slink Abroad: I In This Naked Berry Of Flesh That Stands Dismayed On The Bush; And I In The Stealthy, Brindled Odours Prowling About The Lush And Acrid Night Of Autumn; My Soul, Along With The Rout, Rank And Treacherous, Prowling, Disseminated Out. For The Night, With A Great Breath Intaken, Has Taken My Spirit Outside Me, Till I Reel With Disseminated Consciousness, Like A Man Who Has Died. At The Same Time I Stand Exposed Here On The Bush Of The Globe, A Newly-Naked Berry Of Flesh For The Stars To Probe.