FRESH snow is now the mountain's crown, And clouds with growing day come down, And I who in the spring time trod With deerlike foot the upland sod, Now from the valley sadly raise To crag and peak the sick man's gaze. All things are passing. Ice by night Creeps o'er green fields and flow'rets bright; And glittering morning sees the mead Wrapped in the white robe of the Dead. The autumn colours on the trees, The solemn winds that rise and swell, The louder voice of neighbouring seas, The silent birds with cow'ring wings, A time of Change and Ending tell; And bid to all departing things, And me, among the rest, Farewell. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINCOLN, THE MAN OF THE PEOPLE by EDWIN MARKHAM ON THE SOUL by PUBLIUS AELIUS HADRIANUS COMPOSED BY THE SIDE OF GRASMERE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH OUT FROM A DREAM by ELLA ALLISON TO THE SHAH (2) by AWHAD AD-DIN 'ALI IBN VAHID MUHAMMAD KHAVARANI |