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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
FABLE: 16, by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT First Line: Thou poor leaf, so sear and frail Last Line: Glory's laurel, beauty's rose. | |||
THOU poor leaf, so sear and frail, Sport of every wanton gale, Whence and whither dost thou fly Through this bleak autumnal sky? -- On a noble oak I grew, Green and broad, and fair to view; But the monarch of the shade By the tempest low was laid. From that time, I wander o'er Wood and valley, hill and moor, Wheresoe'er the wind is blowing, Nothing caring, nothing knowing; Thither go I whither goes Glory's laurel, Beauty's rose. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LEAF by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT THE SNAIL by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT CONTRA MORTEM: THE WATER by HAYDEN CARRUTH BRUTUS LIVES AGAIN IN BOOTH by EDGAR LEE MASTERS FALSE FRIENDS-LIKE by WILLIAM BARNES THE OTHER SIDE OF A MIRROR by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE EILEEN AROON by GERALD JOSEPH GRIFFIN |
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