The rustling of the silk is discontinued, Dust drifts over the court-yard, There is no sound of foot-fall, and the leaves Scurry into heaps and lie still, And she the rejoicer of the heart is beneath them: A wet leaf that clings to the threshold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SONG TO A FAIR YOUNG LADY GOING OUT OF TOWN IN THE SPRING by JOHN DRYDEN THE LADY OF SHALOTT by ALFRED TENNYSON REMEMBRANCE by EGMONT HEGEL ARENS THE WAKE OF THE KING OF SPAIN by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD ENVOI: DEATH (1) by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE VAICES THAT BE GONE by WILLIAM BARNES |