THE russet leaves of the sycamore Lie at last on the valley floor— By the autumn wind swept to and fro Like ghosts in a tale of long ago. Shallow and clear the Carmel glides Where the willows droop on its vine-walled sides. The bracken rust is red on the hill; The pines stand brooding, somber and still; Gray are the cliffs, and the waters gray, Where the sea-gulls dip to the sea-born spray. Sad November, lady of rain, Sends the goose-wedge over again. Wilder now, for the verdure's birth, Falls the sunlight over the earth; Kildees call from the fields where now The banding blackbirds follow the plow; Rustling poplar and brittle weed Whisper low to the river-reed. Days departing linger and sigh: Stars come soon to the quiet sky; Buried voices, intimate, strange, Cry to body and soul of change; Beauty, eternal fugitive, Seeks the home that we cannot give. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THE SHADOWS: 2 by DAVID GRAY (1838-1861) BISHOP BRUNO by ROBERT SOUTHEY DIRGE FOR TWO VETERANS by WALT WHITMAN HE MOURNS FOR THE CHANGE THAT HAS COME UPON HIM AND BELOVED by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE DOOMED MAN by JOSEPH ADDISON ALEXANDER STANZAS, COMPOSED WHILE WALKING ON WARREN HILL, EARLY SUMMER'S MORNING by BERNARD BARTON THE RONALDS OF THE BENNALS by ROBERT BURNS |