The pine-trees bend to listen to the autumn wind as it mutters Something which sets the black poplars ashake with hysterical laughter, While slowly the house of the day is closing its eastern shutters. Further down the valley the clustered tombstones recede, Winding about their dimness the mist's grey cerements, after The street lamps in the darkness have suddenly started to bleed. The leaves fly over the window and utter a word as they pass To the face that leans from the darkness, intent, with two dark-filled eye That watch for ever earnestly from behind the window glass. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PALINODE; AUTUMN by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL JOHN BROWN OF OSAWATOMIE [OCTOBER 16, 1859] by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN A SOUL'S SOLILOQUY by WENONAH STEVENS ABBOTT WHY DID YOU DEPART AT DUSK? by CLARISSA M. BAILEY EARLY AND LATE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |