Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

IN TUSCANY: DEAD LEAVES by CORA RANDALL FABBRI

First Line: O SWALLOW, WHEN THE DEAD LEAVES COME
Last Line: MY LEAVES ARE DEAD, AND YET I CANNOT FLY.
Subject(s): LEAVES;
O SWALLOW, when the dead leaves come
Thou flee'st away.
This nest is cold, this tree is dumb,
And over all this sky is gray.
But life is all a joyous day
Where thou art fled,
And thou forgettest that these leaves are dead.

So hearts have Autumn days, O Swallow,
And leaves that die.
Could I but follow thee—but follow,
And reach that other warmer sky,
And thus be happy by-and-by
In some new way!
But all my leaves are dead and I must stay.

My leaves are dead, and yet I cannot fly.



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