The heavy thrall Of the sobbing call Of the fall Weighs, nor departs, Like my heart's Pall. Overcome And dumb, As the hours creep I see the haze Of olden days And weep. And I go away The wind's prey, In barren, brief Whirl hither and yon Like a wan Dead leaf. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TRULY GREAT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES PAST AND PRESENT by ROWLAND EYLES EGERTON-WARBURTON A WORD TO THE WEST END by THOMAS ASHE SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 49. THE ENGLISH RACE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) ARTHUR AND ALBINA by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS WITH ETERNITY STANDING BY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT PASSING THROUGH THE CARRON IRON WORKS by ROBERT BURNS |