My garden feels the touch of fall And, like a damsel, winter dreading, She spins herself a damasked shawl With red and gold and purple threading. The cosmos breaks in starry bloom Upon the robe of her designing; Chrysanthemums from her rich loom Are warmly her deep bosom twining. October beats against her heart And blusters he will be her master! Defiantly she bends her art To weave perfection in an aster! Yet well the queenly maid must know For all the splendour she may pattern, November's fierce, relentless blow Will show her to the world a slattern! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SHERIDAN'S RIDE [DECEMBER 19, 1864] by THOMAS BUCHANAN READ ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 39 by PHILIP SIDNEY IN TEMPTATION by CHARLES WESLEY THE TWO RABBIS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THESEUS, SELECTION by BACCHYLIDES THE JACKET OF GREY by CAROLINE AUGUSTA BALL |