'T IS the golden gleam of an autumn day, With the soft rain raining as if in play; And a tender touch upon everything, As if autumn remembered the days of spring. In the listening woods there is not a breath To shake their gold to the sward beneath; And a glow as of sunshine on them lies, Though the sun is hid in the shadowed skies. The cock's clear crow from the farmyard comes, The muffled bell from the belfry booms, And faint and dim, and from far away, Come the voices of children in happy play. O'er the mountains the white rain draws its veil, And the black rooks, cawing, across them sail; While nearer the swooping swallows skim O'er the steel-gray river's fretted brim. No sorrow upon the landscape weighs, No grief for the vanished summer days; But a sense of peaceful and calm repose Like that which age in autumn knows. The springtime longings are past and gone, the passions of summer no longer are known, The harvest is gathered, and autumn stands Serenely thoughtful, with folded hands. Over all is thrown a memorial hue, A glory ideal the real ne'er knew; For memory sifts from the past its pain, And suffers its beauty alone to remain. With half a smile and half a sigh It ponders the past that has hurried by: Sees it and feels it and loves it all, Content it has vanished beyond recall. O glorious autumn, thus serene, Thus living and loving all that has been! Thus calm and contented let me be When the autumn of age shall come to me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE WOMAN by HAYDEN CARRUTH HOUSE WITH THE MARBLE STEPS by AMY LOWELL STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 1. SEATTLE by CLARENCE MAJOR THE DAY AND THE WORK by EDWIN MARKHAM THE POET'S TESTAMENT by GEORGE SANTAYANA |