Stiff in midsummer green, the stolid hillsides March with their trees, dependable and stanch, Except where here and there a lawless maple Thrusts to the sky one red, rebellious branch. You see them standing out, these frank insurgents, With that defiant and arresting plume; Scattered, they toss this flame like some wild signal, Calling their comrades to a brilliant doom. What can it mean -- this strange, untimely challenge; This proclamation of an early death? Are they so tired of earth they fly the banner Of dissolution and a bleeding faith? Or is it, rather than a brief defiance, An anxious welcome to a vivid strife? A glow, a heart-beat, and a bright acceptance Of all the rich exuberance of life. Rebellious or resigned, they flaunt their color, A sudden torch, a burning battle-cry. "Light up the world," they wave to all the others; "Swiftly we live and splendidly we die." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 20 by JAMES JOYCE GHOSTS OF A LUNATIC ASYLUM by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET LONELY BURIAL by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET NO MATTER WHAT, AFTER ALL, AND THAT BEAUTIFUL WORD SO by HAYDEN CARRUTH BIRTHDAY POEM FOR THOMAS HARDY by CECIL DAY LEWIS FOREST FLOWERS by ROBERT FROST ONE OF THE LEAST OF THESE, MY LITTLE ONE' by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |