I WAS in the woods to-day, And the leaves were spinning there, Rich apparelled in decay, -- In decay more wholly fair Than in life they ever were. Gold and rich barbaric red Freakt with pale and sapless vein, Spinning, spinning, spun and sped With a little sob of pain Back to harbouring earth again. Long in homely green they shone Through the summer rains and sun, Now their humbleness is gone, Now their little season run, Pomp and pageantry begun. Sweet was life, and buoyant breath, Lovely too; but for a day Issues from the house of death Yet more beautiful array: Hark, a whisper -- "Come away." One by one they spin and fall, But they fall in regal pride: Dying, do they hear a call Rising from an ebbless tide, And, hearing, are beatified? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. MERRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE TAY BRIDGE DISEASTER by WILLIAM MCGONAGALL PSALM 102 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 23 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT BACH'S ORGAN WORKS by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN PROLOGUE FOR NEW YEAR'S DAY by ROBERT BURNS MEDITATIONS FOR EVERY DAY IN PASSION WEEK: WEDNESDAY by JOHN BYROM |