Songs of A Wayfarer By William Davies |
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Songs of A Wayfarer | ||
CLXII.
[When palsied autumn shakes the yellow trees]
When palsied autumn shakes the yellow trees,And robs the meadow of its wonted green,
And happy birds that once would sing and preen
Their painted feathers in the coppices,
Now hide from chilly winds that 'gin to freeze
The verdant broidery of summer's sheen,
And that which was is as it had not been;
From outward things, which may no longer please,
I shift thy semblance, and, in fairer shows
That dwell within the soul, discern thy face;
And when the piping blast of winter blows,
Make new acquaintance with thy fresh-clad grace,
Breathing o'er barren fields and wasteful snows
The balm of springtide with its hymns of praise.
Songs of A Wayfarer | ||