When latest Autumn spreads her evening veil, And the grey mists from these dim waves arise, I love to listen to the hollow sighs, Thro' the half-leafless wood that breathes the gale: For at such hours the shadowy phantom pale, Oft seems to fleet before the poet's eyes; Strange sounds are heard, and mournful melodies, As of night-wanderers, who their woes bewail! Here, by his native stream, at such an hour, Pity's own Otway I methinks could meet, And hear his deep sighs swell the sadden'd wind! O Melancholy! -- such thy magic power, That to the soul these dreams are often sweet, And soothe the pensive visionary mind! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER TWO YEARS by RICHARD ALDINGTON ALL FOOLS' CALENDER by DONALD (GRADY) DAVIDSON OUR CAMP; IN THE AUTUMN WOODS by ROBERT FROST DRIVING INTO LARAMIE by JAMES GALVIN I LOOKED FOR LIFE AND DID A SHADOW SEE by JAMES GALVIN TO BAYARD TAYLOR by SIDNEY LANIER CHARLOTTE CORDAY (REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL, JULY 17, 1793) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |