THE Autumn gales are blowing And wrecks bestrew the shore; The angry ocean rages With loud and wild uproar. Furious billows leeward The doomèd vessels bore; Their prey the foaming breakers To fragments madly tore. The Autumn winds are singing The death-song of the leaves; Shrill piping, as they winnow The shocks of golden sheaves. Soft singing to the reaper, Who loves to hear the song, And bares his dewy forehead, As they singing skim along. The Autumn breeze is hushing To sleep the fading flowers; Breathing on the falling leaves And through the rifled bowers; Murmuring through the woodlands, And sighing in the pines; Light rippling on the streamlet In broken, wavy lines. On a couch of fallen leaves— The golden and the brown— While the breezes fan my brow, There I would lay me down. Alone with God and nature, 'Midst emblems of decay; 'Neath the calm Autumnal sky I'd breathe my life away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 20 by THOMAS CAMPION TO AN INSECT by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES WRINKLES by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR ON A FLY DRINKING FROM HIS CUP by WILLIAM OLDYS THE CORAL INSECT by LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY THE PREACHER by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE CASE OF DOMINEERING JOHN ALEXIS UPHAM by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |