Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods, And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt, And night by night the monitory blast Wails in the key-hole, telling how it pass'd O'er empty fields, or upland solitudes, Or grim wide wave; and now the power is felt Of melancholy, tenderer in its moods Than any joy indulgent summer dealt. Dear friends, together in the glimmering eve, Pensive and glad, with tones that recognise The soft invisible dew in each one's eyes, It may be, somewhat thus we shall have leave To walk with memory, when distant lies Poor Earth, where we were wont to live and grieve. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE SLAIN AT CHICKAMAUGA by HERMAN MELVILLE LEE TO THE REAR [MAY 12, 1864] by JOHN REUBEN THOMPSON HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 34 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH ASOLANDO: DEVELOPMENT by ROBERT BROWNING TO ALEX. CUNNINGHAM, WRITER by ROBERT BURNS PINDARIC ODE: TO THE NEW YEAR by ABRAHAM COWLEY BEAUTY AND SONG by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES |