 | The ghost's entry and other poems |  |
152
TWO MOODS OF OCTOBER
A hermit in the woodland (lo,
An empty nest in withered hands!)
Who counts, bead-like, the leaves that fall,
Sometimes October stands;
An empty nest in withered hands!)
Who counts, bead-like, the leaves that fall,
Sometimes October stands;
Sometimes, a joyous harvester
In sun-browned fields of blowing grain,
He laughs and shouts with children blithe,
Who laugh and shout again!
In sun-browned fields of blowing grain,
He laughs and shouts with children blithe,
Who laugh and shout again!
| The ghost's entry and other poems | |