The rain has come. Gone the empurpled air Which hung upon the golden wreckage of the trees. The rain has come, And one no longer sees The sun. The radiance that lay upon the vair And crimson of the earth is vanished with these. The wind is up. It greits; nor dazzles now The quiet lanes with ruined autumn's gorgeousness. The wind is up, But tho' the boughs confess Its potency, of jeweled tribute they allow No leaf. The earth, Danae once, is treasureless. Winter is come -- The night-cursed, fearful days, Stained and blurred with tears and querulous with pain. Winter is come, And if my heart refrain Most bitterly from backward looks when pitying stays The sun, then, God! what agony these days of rain! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUFFERED UNDER PONTIUS PILATE, WAS CRUCIFIED, DEAD, AND BURIED by CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER ENCOURAGED by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE MAN IN THE MOON by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY A SONG OF LIFE by ABRAHAM IBN EZRA OUR LADY by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES GERALDINE by EMILY JANE BRONTE |