THE wind told the little leaves to hurry, And chased them down the way, While the mother tree laughed loud in glee, For she thought her babes at play. The cruel wind and the rain laughed loudly, We'll bury them deep, they said, And the old tree grieves, and the little leaves Lie low, all chilled and dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...D.G.C. TO J.A by EMILY JANE BRONTE TWENTY GOLDEN YEARS AGO by JAMES CLARENCE MANGAN TO A LADY: SHE REFUSING TO CONTINUE A DISPUTE WITH ME by MATTHEW PRIOR A SKETCH by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TO S.M., A YOUNG AFRICAN PAINTER, ON SEEING HIS WORKS by PHILLIS WHEATLEY ACROSS THE STREET by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH IN A LETTER TO A.R.C. ON HER WISHING TO BE CALLED ANNA by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS THE NORTH AND THE SOUTH; LAST POEM, ROME, MAY, 1861 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |