The Autumn wind wails thin, Like a sobbing violin, Long and low. How it thrills my heart with pain, This monotonous refrain, Sad and slow! Passion-pale I pant, "Alas!" For the chiming hours that pass To their sleep, Till the visions throng my head Of the good glad days long dead And I weep. But the wind so wild and fleet Overbears my willing feet, And I go As the withered leaves that spin When the winter gusts begin To and fro. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO WISDOM by ELIZABETH CARTER BOSTON HYMN; READ IN MUSIC HALL, JANUARY 1, 1863 by RALPH WALDO EMERSON SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE: 11. IN THE RESTAURANT by THOMAS HARDY THE ROAD TO FRANCE by DANIEL MACINTYRE HENDERSON BILLY, HE'S IN TROUBLE by JAMES BARTON ADAMS THE ACHARNIANS: IN PRAISE OF THE POET by ARISTOPHANES |