 | Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds |  |
THE YELLOW LEAF.
I saw a leaf come tilting down
From a bare withered bough;
The leaf was dead, the branch was brown,
No fruit was left it now.
From a bare withered bough;
The leaf was dead, the branch was brown,
No fruit was left it now.
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But much the rattling tempest blew,
The naked boughs among;
And here and there came whirling through
A leaf that loosely hung.
The naked boughs among;
And here and there came whirling through
A leaf that loosely hung.
The leaf, they tell me, once was green,
Washed by the showers soft:
High on the topmost bough 'twas seen,
And flourished up aloft.
Washed by the showers soft:
High on the topmost bough 'twas seen,
And flourished up aloft.
I saw an old man totter slow,
Wrinkled, and weak, and grey;
He'd hardly strength enough to go
Ever so short a way.
Wrinkled, and weak, and grey;
He'd hardly strength enough to go
Ever so short a way.
His ear was deaf, his eye was dim,
He leaned on crutches high;
But while I stayed to pity him
He seemed to gasp and die.
He leaned on crutches high;
But while I stayed to pity him
He seemed to gasp and die.
This poor old man was once as gay
As rosy health could be;
And death the youngest head will lay,
Ere long, as low as he.
As rosy health could be;
And death the youngest head will lay,
Ere long, as low as he.
| Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds | |