THE leaves are falling; so am I; The few late flowers have moisture in the eye; So have I too. Scarcely on any bough is heard Joyous, or even unjoyous, bird The whole wood through. Winter may come: he brings but nigher His circle (yearly narrowing) to the fire Where old friends meet. Let him; now heaven is overcast, And spring and summer both are past, And all things sweet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO TIRZAH, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE BEFORE THE BIRTH OF ONE OF HER CHILDREN by ANNE BRADSTREET LEMON PIE by EDGAR ALBERT GUEST SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE. 6. IN THE CEMETERY by THOMAS HARDY LINES TO THE MEMORY OF ANNIE WHO DIED AT MILAN, JUNE 6, 1860 by HARRIET BEECHER STOWE A PENNY'S WORTH OF POESY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE CASE OF DOMINEERING JOHN ALEXIS UPHAM by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS ON READING THAT THE REBUILDING OF YPRES APPROACHED COMPLETION by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |