 | The poetical writings of Elizabeth Oakes Smith |  |
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THE FIRST LEAF OF AUTUMN.
I see thee fall, thou quivering leaf, of faint and yellow hue,
The first to feel the autumn winds, that, blighting, o'er thee blew—
Slow-parted from the rocking branch, I see thee floating by,
To brave, all desolate and lone, the bleak autumnal sky.
The first to feel the autumn winds, that, blighting, o'er thee blew—
Slow-parted from the rocking branch, I see thee floating by,
To brave, all desolate and lone, the bleak autumnal sky.
Alas! the first, the yellow leaf—how sadly falls it there,
To rustle on the crispéd grass, with every chilly air!
It tells of those that soon must drop all withered from the tree,
And it hath waked a sadder chord in deathless memory.
To rustle on the crispéd grass, with every chilly air!
It tells of those that soon must drop all withered from the tree,
And it hath waked a sadder chord in deathless memory.
Thou eddying leaf, away, away, there's sorrow in thy hue;
Thou soundst the knell of sunny hours, of buds, and liquid dew—
And thou dost tell how from the heart the blooms of hope decay;
How each one lingers, loath to part, till all are swept away.
Thou soundst the knell of sunny hours, of buds, and liquid dew—
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How each one lingers, loath to part, till all are swept away.
| The poetical writings of Elizabeth Oakes Smith | |