 | [Poems by Howells in] Poems of two friends |  |
95
THE AUTUMN-LAND.
At last, the sorrowing wind
Hath moaned itself to sleep—
Over all the autumn-land
Broods silence strange and deep.
Hath moaned itself to sleep—
Over all the autumn-land
Broods silence strange and deep.
Like bright but songless birds
Along the naked leas,
All day the crimson leaves have flown,
Vexed by the wayward breeze.
Along the naked leas,
All day the crimson leaves have flown,
Vexed by the wayward breeze.
The while the stricken elms
Through all their boughs have sighed
For the summer birds that sang,
The summer flowers that died.
Through all their boughs have sighed
For the summer birds that sang,
The summer flowers that died.
Night falls. I scarce can see
The cattle where they droop
Together about the barnyard bars,
A mute and steadfast group.
The cattle where they droop
Together about the barnyard bars,
A mute and steadfast group.
Ah! well that the sorrowing wind
Hath moaned itself asleep!
That over the autumn-land
Broods silence dull and deep!
Hath moaned itself asleep!
That over the autumn-land
Broods silence dull and deep!
96
For all too long hath been
The brief November day,
Of barren field and somber wold,
And sky of sullen gray.
The brief November day,
Of barren field and somber wold,
And sky of sullen gray.
Too long the leaves were vexed,
Too long the sad elms sighed
For the summer birds that sang,
The summer flowers that died.
Too long the sad elms sighed
For the summer birds that sang,
The summer flowers that died.
Alas! that Autumn-land
Where the sad wind never sleeps;
Where over the summer-mourning soul
No silence ever creeps;
Where the sad wind never sleeps;
Where over the summer-mourning soul
No silence ever creeps;
Where the thoughts are ever vexed,
The heart is ever tried—
O! the summer birds that sang,
The summer flowers that died!
The heart is ever tried—
O! the summer birds that sang,
The summer flowers that died!
| [Poems by Howells in] Poems of two friends | |