LEAVES from the elm-trees flying -- Summer to autumn flown -- Out on the lawn is lying Mulberry's golden gown. Never a bird is singing, Never a plant has bloom, Only the fantails winging White on the windy gloom. We can no more remember Perfume of rose or hay; Far from this dark November Beauty has passed away. Not till the Spring recapture Joy as it flits along, Shall we regain the rapture Either of scent or song! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FEBRUARY IN ROME by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE MOTHER TO SON by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES KATHLEEN O'MORE by GEORGE NUGENT REYNOLDS IO VICTIS by WILLIAM WETMORE STORY A MATCH by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE FITZ-GREENE HALLECK, AT THE UNVEILING OF HIS STATUE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |