暂时存 all

Hear not the wind-
view not the woods;
Look out o'er (over) vale and hill-
 In spring,
the sky encircled them-
The sky is round them still.
 Come autumn's scathe-
come winter's cold-
Come change-
and human fate!
Whatever prospect Heaven doth bound,
Can ne'er (never) be desolate.
The Autumn (by Elizabeth Barrett Browning ？