The season wasted

Lo, the summer is dead, the sun is faded,
Even like as a leaf the year is withered,
All the fruits of the day from all her branches
Gathered, neither is any left to gather.
All the flowers are dead, the tender blossoms,
All are taken away; the season wasted,
Like an ember among the fallen ashes.

- from Hendecasyllabics by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Sadly, British Summer Time is over - all the nights will be dark from now until next March.

Sob.