 | Snow-berries. A book for young folks |  |
94
AUTUMN THOUGHTS.
When frosts begin the leaves to blight,
And winds to beat and blow,
I think about a stormy night
Of a winter long ago.
And winds to beat and blow,
I think about a stormy night
Of a winter long ago.
The clouds that lay, when the sun went down,
In a heap of blood-red bars,
Turned, all at once, of a grayish brown,
And ran across the stars.
In a heap of blood-red bars,
Turned, all at once, of a grayish brown,
And ran across the stars.
And the moon went out, and the wind fell low,—
And in silence everywhere
The fine and flinty flakes of snow
Slipped slantwise down the air.
And in silence everywhere
The fine and flinty flakes of snow
Slipped slantwise down the air.
Slipped slantwise down, more fast and fast,
And larger grew amain,
Till the long-armed brier-bush, at last,
Was like a ghost at the pane.
And larger grew amain,
Till the long-armed brier-bush, at last,
Was like a ghost at the pane.
A group of merry children we,
As any house can show;
The very rafters rang with glee,
That night, beneath the snow.
As any house can show;
The very rafters rang with glee,
That night, beneath the snow.
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The candle up and down we slid,
To make our shadows tall;
And played at hide-and-seek, and hid
Where we were not hid at all.
To make our shadows tall;
And played at hide-and-seek, and hid
Where we were not hid at all.
We heaped the logs against the cold,
And made the chimney roar;
And told the stories we had told
A thousand times before.
And made the chimney roar;
And told the stories we had told
A thousand times before.
We ran our stock of riddles through,—
Nor large, be sure, nor wise;
And guessed the answers that we knew,
And feigned a glad surprise.
Nor large, be sure, nor wise;
And guessed the answers that we knew,
And feigned a glad surprise.
But, in despite our frolic joys,
That rang so wild and high,
We wished, we foolish girls and boys,
That time would faster fly.
That rang so wild and high,
We wished, we foolish girls and boys,
That time would faster fly.
And years have come and gone since then;
And the children there at play,
Are sober women, now, and men,
With heads that are growing gray.
And the children there at play,
Are sober women, now, and men,
With heads that are growing gray.
But their hearts will never be so light,
And their cheeks will never glow
As they did upon that stormy night,
In the garret rude and low.
And their cheeks will never glow
As they did upon that stormy night,
In the garret rude and low.
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