How like to Man art thou! Canst thou thy change foresee -- What leaf upon the bough, What bough upon the tree? It was but yestere'en Thou wert a loyal part Of Summer's solid green That stirred the grateful heart. But. Night upon thee blew With pale and frosty breath, And left thy natural hue Aflame in glorious death. Or was there from thy birth An ichor in thy blood, Transmuting the dull earth To Autumn's golden flood? Thy going is not grief: Thy splendor shall but make Soil for another leaf That follows in thy wake. I in my Autumn hour Do envy thee in thine: Thy joy-diffusing power, The year's consummate wine. The light of yonder tree My keenest hurt doth salve; Better the gold we see Than all the gold we have. When my green strength be stayed, And frost shall summon me, If like a leaf I fade, Oh, let me fade like thee! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLACK RIDERS: 56 by STEPHEN CRANE THE AUTHOR'S EPITAPH, MADE BY HIMSELF by WALTER RALEIGH PUCK AND THE FAIRY, FR. A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE MARGARET FULLER by AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT THE SHEPHERD O' THE FARM by WILLIAM BARNES |